


Tears of Phoenix

by blacksbear



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Dimension, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Hermione Granger, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hermione & Sirius Sibling Bond, Hermione & Sirius are Twins, Hermione Granger Is So Done, Hermione Learns To Break A Nose, Jealousy, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Occlumency (Harry Potter), Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Past Child Abuse, Peter Is An Artistic Wholesome Boy, Protective Marauders, Regulus Protection Club, Remus Lupin is a Good Friend, Slow Burn, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 02:04:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 70
Words: 207,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20574641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacksbear/pseuds/blacksbear
Summary: No one imagined that Hermione Black's mere existence would lead to the Dark Lord's defeat.Marauders Era AU.





	1. Trains and Falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! First of all, buckle up because we're in for a _very_ long journey. This is a Marauders Era AU, in which Hermione is Sirius's twin, however there _is_ a connection to the Canon world that will be explained very soon. Initially, though, you'll be allowed to get used to Hermione's relationship with the people around her. Slowly but surely, it will evolve into something much more complex and less flat.
> 
> So, I hope you're prepared for a ride full of slow-burn romance, angst, humour and Voldemort because let's be real, the fight against that man deserves a name of its own. And now, who am I to hold you back from it? Enjoy!
> 
> Russian translation by Evilina Volkova can be found [here!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/9865931)

**September, 1971.**

Hermione gripped the covers of her bed tightly, hearing an annoyed screech come from outside her room. Slowly, she shrugged herself off the blanket, slipping her feet in her slippers and making her way to the door, though, before she could open it, she heard the loud voice of her mother again.

"Sirius Orion Black, wake your sister up right now, or I will make sure she'll never want to leave that room ever again!"

It seemed like she had slept in again, and she groaned mentally as to why it had to be today, of all days.

"Calm down, she's just bloody sleeping."

Hermione bit down a smile. She could picture Sirius rolling his eyes at the black-haired woman. While she didn't want to face the wrath of her mother, she obviously didn't want her to get mad at Sirius either. Gingerly turning the doorknob, she left the comfort of her bedroom and descended the staircase, padding to the kitchen. Kreacher was standing in front of the stove, while the rest of the family surrounded the large table.

"Good morning," she said as she plastered a bright smile on her face and approached them. She wanted to distract her mother, no matter how poor her attempt may be. "When are we leaving? Do you think I should pack more books? Wait, Sirius do you mind if I put some of my stuff with yours?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, though they sparked in amusement. "Good morning to you too, but I am not letting you get excited over _books_ today. You should be thinking more about how you get to go to Hogwarts with me."

"Sadly, I am," she granted with a defeated expression.

Her twin narrowed his eyes at her and asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What she wants to say is that," Regulus began as he put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a smile, "she would much rather go to school with me instead."

She grinned and nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes. You're practically the same height, so no one will notice who's who."

In one swift move, Walburga had raised her wand, and everyone quieted down, not surprised at all by her stance.

"That's enough! Be silent and let me remind you of what _must_ happen when you get to Hogwarts." She glared at the twins and continued, "You two will be sorted in Slytherin and make it known that you are part of the noble and most ancient House of Black. Interact with Purebloods and Purebloods only. I would better hope that's clear!"

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose and Hermione watched the woman wearily. She knew well that this was all they would get to hear until they boarded the train, and she wasn’t sure she looked forward to that.

"Well . . ." Hermione interrupted her slowly, "it's crystal clear, and while I would love to continue this conversation, I know how much you hate being late and I think Sirius still has some packing to do. He might need help. Don't you, Sirius?"

She arched a brow at her twin, who gave her an enthusiastic nod. She moved to hold his hand and dragged him away from the room, not waiting for him to burst at their mother and get reprimanded for it.

As they reached his bedroom, he pulled Hermione into a tight embrace and choked the breath out of her.

"Thank you _and_ your brains for getting her off our backs," he exclaimed, his voice muffled through her bushy hair.

"You know I won't always be able to help you once we get there. What if we get sorted in different houses?" she reminded him, pulling back to look at him carefully.

Sirius waved his hand nonchalantly and pointed at his luggage. "We can figure that out later, but can you _really_ help me with this mess please?"

Hermione sighed heavily. It was going to be a long journey.

* * *

"Hurry up!"

"It's not my fault you were busy with that mess you call hair."

"I wouldn't have taken so long if you had packed the day before!"

"How would I have known it would've taken me so long?"

"Are you serious? If you didn't know how long it would've taken, that's one reason why you should've packed sooner."

"First of all, I _am_ Sirius and I—"

"Would you two care to shut up before I apparate you two in the middle of the tracks?" their mother bit angrily.

Hermione nodded carefully; she knew better than to continue talking.

She _was_ terrified of what the woman could really do in public, amongst her future peers. She also avidly wanted to get farther away from the woman, her rules and orders included. So, after taking a deep breath to control herself, Hermione stepped forward and reached for her mother, deciding that a hug could do her some good. Perhaps for once, she needed a little physical contact that wasn't from her husband.

Had Hermione known that she'd trip over thin air and land right on the ground, she wouldn't have bothered. But here she was, trying really hard to get up with her hands on the hard ground, and struggling to not hex her brother into the other dimension for merely snorting, instead of helping her.

_He better not dare to ask for help packing next time_, she thought darkly. She got up on her knees, hoping they wouldn't get scraped, and saw a hand make its way in front of her face. Hermione clasped it and looked up, to see a raven, messy—_truly messy_—haired boy grin down at her.

Her own lips curled up in gratitude. "Thank you," she said kindly, looking back to glare at Sirius.

Her brother stopped laughing, probably after realizing he was in trouble. The other boy looked at both twins and beamed. "James Potter at your service."

Sirius dramatically bowed and shook his hand. "Sirius Black, the Third would like to show his gratitude for saving this young lady, that is Hermione Black."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his theatrics but shook James's hand, nonetheless, smiling tentatively at the boy. The corners of his hazel eyes crinkled slightly in amusement as he brought it up for a kiss.

She let go of it and turned around as she heard someone clear their throat behind her. "I don't believe we've met," the tall woman said, offering her a gentle smile. She had a few graying hairs but sported a head of black curls that matched her son’s.

"I'm Dorea Potter and this is Charlus Potter. I highly doubt your mother talked about us. Am I right, Walburga?" she asked as she turned to Walburga, an arched brow and a challenging look on her face that not many dared to show her mother.

Her mother glared at Mrs. Potter, and she pursed her lips in heavy disapproval. "I didn't deem it necessary for me to introduce my kids to blood traitors. Though, I suppose it's best for me to warn them about your son, don't you think?"

_Really_? she silently groaned in frustration. She’d hoped her mother would know better than to get into an argument today, of all days. They barely had ten minutes left and their mother didn’t feel the need to bid goodbye to her kids. Hermione looked at Sirius worriedly, and he seemed to understand her concern instantly by the way he sighed.

"Mother, I'm _not_ letting your blood purity nonsense let us be late. It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Come on Hermione." He reached for their trunks as Walburga gasped and listed several profanities.

Hermione ignored her and turned around to hug Regulus tightly, who had been watching the whole encounter with wide eyes. "I really wish you could come with us," she grumbled, a frown growing on her face, "I'm going to miss you so much."

Regulus looked at her with an innocent tilt of his head, and he whispered, "Please don't get in trouble. I love you, 'Mione."

Hermione knew of the message underlying the word 'trouble'. She gave him a firm nod and waved, running to catch up with Sirius.

Once they boarded, they dragged their feet in search of a free compartment, and once they finally saw James already sitting in one with two other boys, they mutually agreed to join them. Sirius slid the door open and sat by the entrance, speaking up first. "Sorry about that, mate. That woman is kinda crazy. You see, the inbreeding got to her badly."

Hermione smacked the back of his head as she sat beside him, and James laughed. "No worries mate. I was waiting for you to join us. We've been discussing a few pranks we have in mind," he reassured and wiggled his eyebrows, clear mischief on his mind.

Sirius's eyes brightened at his words, and Hermione rolled her own. She could tell they were all going to get on with each other just fine.

"Anyways, this is Remus Lupin", James said as he pointed to the boy in the corner. His face was covered with faint scars and he seemed to be very nervous. A small tinge of pink appeared on his cheeks when Hermione offered her hand and he shook it rather quickly.

Then, James turned to the other guy who was sitting right next to him. His blue eyes were boring into hers, and Hermione tried to hide the gut wrenching feeling she got when she stared at him. She couldn't place as to why he discomforted her so much. Still, she smiled and offered her hand as she heard James say his name, "This is Peter Pettigrew."

Sirius followed, shaking both of their hands, "I'm Sirius Black and this is my little sister, Hermione Black."

She sent him a light glare and corrected, "I don't think a two minute difference makes you older than me, Sirius."

Hermione then cleared her throat, wrangling her hands slightly as she looked at the boys. "Sirius is right, though. I really hope you don't mind our mother. And I also hope you don't have to meet her again. She can be a bit . . . _overwhelming_."

James looked at her through his round glasses and slung his arm around her shoulders. "You know what? It doesn't matter as long as you're there." He ignored Sirius' protests in the background about 'sister' and 'kill'. Instead, he stared at her as he continued, "And, I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other quite often."

The corners of her lips twitched and really, it had to be the first time she couldn't come up with anything to say. Her throat suddenly felt dry when she said distractedly, "If you are talking about us being in the same house, I hope you're right."

Sirius caught their attention with a hum and explained, "Our mother wants us to be sorted in Slytherin, since it’s tradition,” he spat the word with clear spite, “but we don't want to, and I doubt we'd even have a chance."

James looked put out at the mention of the Slytherin house. "_Eh_. Gryffindor is in the Potter blood and who wants to be in Slytherin anyways—"

"I will have you know Slytherin is the best house to be in. I doubt you would have the brains to be sorted there," a snide voice interrupted James.

Sirius glared at the guy standing in the middle of the entrance and jumped in defense of his new friend. "No one asked for your opinion. Maybe your greasy hair let you think otherwise."

"Sirius!" she reprimanded. Hermione should've known his temper would get him into a fight soon, but she didn't think it would be _that_ soon.

The pale, lanky boy narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, just to be cut off by the red haired girl that stood right by his side. "Come on, Sev. Let's sit somewhere else,” she hissed angrily, sending fierce glares at the whole lot in the compartment.

"Well," said Peter once they’d left. "That was interesting."

Hermione groaned. They hadn't even stepped foot in Hogwarts yet and two people already hated them. She let out a huff and pulled out a book to read, ignoring the boys when they started talking about Quidditch.

* * *

When Hermione woke up, she noticed that all the boys had fallen asleep, as well. Sirius's head was on her lap, while James was leaning on her shoulder. She noticed students walking on the other side of the door and realized they might be getting closer to the castle. She pushed her brother's head up and let it rest on the side of the wall. Then, her fingers reached up to cup James's cheek as she let his head lay against the window, instead. His glasses looked slightly askew, and she smiled at the sight as she fixed them up for me.

After heading to the washroom and wearing the robes she was meant to put on, she finally felt excitement seep through her bones, throbbing fiercely in her veins. She had been waiting for this moment for as long as she could remember. Learning had become a part of her, just like eating and sleeping, and she couldn’t wait to see what all her classes had in store for her.

Reaching for her wand in reassurance, she had begun to make her way back to the boys, when sheer force stopped her from moving forward, and she fell for the second time that day

"I'm sorry. I didn't—" A scoff stopped her and her gaze snapped up to find the same boy, Sev, that Sirius had insulted just a few hours prior. A sense of guilt kicked in her gut and she realized as she stood up, that she really didn't want to start things badly with anyone.

So, she gave him a small, apologetic smile. "I'm really sorry for what my brother said earlier. I'm sure he didn't mean to be rude." Well, she wasn't actually sure but— "I hope we can be friends. I'm Hermione Black."

The boy ignored the hand that she’d offered for him to shake, and he crossed his arms, shoulders clearly tense. "I don't care who you or your friends are. Move out of the way," he told her with a biting tone.

It was then, that a guy, with a badge on his uniform and overly gelled, blonde hair, stepped in between them and scowled darkly, as though he hated that he had to even breathe the same air as them.

"What's going on here?" he demanded coldly.

She stared at him, her brows knitted in confusion, and she frowned at the intrusion. "Nothing. We were just talking."

Severus butted in and said, "Actually, she was the one talking, and I was asking her to stop bothering me."

_This lying piece of_— _No_, she was starting to sound like Sirius_._ Hermione suppressed the urge to argue back and before she could think of something kinder to say, the blond boy looked at her and arched a pointed brow at her. "Listen here girl, leave now before I make you."

"First of all, that was quite rude," she exclaimed, affronted at the behaviour of the student, but realization dawned on her when she noticed the green his robes were adorned with. Then, she turned to the boy she'd initially wanted to befriend. "And I was apologizing for something that wasn't even my fault, hoping you could be the bigger person and listen!"

Hermione stormed past both of them and entered back into the compartment with a huff, looking at the boys that were still asleep. She wondered what she had just gotten herself into.


	2. Golden Girl?

** September, 1971. **

After the boat had stopped at the dock, the boys had quickly stepped out with Hermione right behind them. She tried to keep her nerves in check, but with the chatter of the first years that surrounded her and the large castle in front of her, she failed miserably.

She stopped abruptly at a sickening pain that erupted in her head. The more she tried to ignore it, the more it burned, leaving her with a pounding headache.

Almost as if he could tell through their twin bond, Sirius’s head snapped back over his shoulder, shooting her a concerned look. "Hermione, are you okay?" he called, his dark brows knitted together.

She released a shaky breath and nodded. While she was in a desperate need to know as to why she could feel the castle blasting its magic at her, she still had a Sorting to be done with. Hermione let out a soft whimper and forced herself to catch up with the rest of the group.

Her heart slammed in her chest as she looked at the enchanted sky in awe, and she found herself reaching into the tight embrace of her twin.

"I'll be there right after you," Sirius whispered and gave her a gentle grin. Her face split into a smile of her own, and she grabbed his hand to squeeze it tightly. Shortly after, a stern looking woman silenced them and began her explanation for the ceremony that awaited them:

"_The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts . . ._"

Hermione continued to fidget with the cuffs of her robes throughout the whole speech. She chewed on her bottom lip and glanced at her twin. He was currently laughing over something James had whispered in his ears, and she shook her head in amusement at how quickly they’d clicked together. She then forced herself to remember what Sirius had told her a few nights ago. No House could ever separate the twins.

A grimace appeared on her face when her name was called, and she inhaled sharply. Slowly easing her wobbly legs, she gave the boys one last, timid smile and moved forward to sit on the old chair. Hermione jumped slightly as the hat on top of her head let out an interested hum.

_ Curious little thing you are. _

She perked up curiously. _I'm sorry. What?_

_ You have the qualities of every house. Smart and quick witted like a Ravenclaw, a kind and soft heart like a Hufflepuff, ambitious and cunning like a Slytherin, but in the end you are especially brave. You will not let the dark defeat you – no, not with the abilities you possess. You can see the light when you shouldn't and you don't leave without a fight. You will prove yourself to be the chosen golden girl amongst the dark. _

_ Could you please explain? _ She frowned deeply when the dusty hat merely chuckled at her.

_ You don't know yet, do you? Ah, Albus must hurry. Good luck, Hermione Black. Better be GRYFFINDOR! _

Hermione caught the faint frown Narcissa sent her from the Slytherin table, and she pushed her own confusion aside. Piercing silence filled the Great Hall and students continued to gawk at her as if she was some sort of abnormality. Granted she was the first Black to be in Gryffindor, but they didn’t have to make the experience even more awkward for her!

Thankfully, everyone soon got over their shock and the Gryffindor table erupted into loud cheers. She was taken aback at the tumult, as she had never gotten a welcome with such warmth.

The House of Black was notoriously hard to warm up.

Drawing a relieved breath, she quickly headed towards the table, sending a reassuring smile to her brother, who looked even more determined now, at the call of his name.

She watched him sit down and idly wondered if the hat was having a similar, confusing conversation with him, as well. However, she was proven wrong when just a few seconds later, a loud “_GRYFFINDOR_" came from the hat, and she pushed her thoughts away to clap eagerly.

Not waiting for the students to gape at him too, Hermione quickly got up and loudly cheered for him. Once he was done guffawing at her surprising, dramatic behaviour, and he sat down next to her, she hurried to wrap her arms around him. She hoped he would ignore the murmurs of neither of the Black twins being sorted in Slytherin.

She was not going to let people ruin the night for them. She knew of how badly Sirius had wanted to be in Gryffindor and no one had the right to judge him for that. Needless to say, she was also rather proud of herself for being sorted in the House, too.

They both shared an exasperated look and continued to watch the ceremony, thankful for each other's presence, as the twins had always stuck by each other’s side and not just because of their powerful magical twin bond.

They weren't necessarily similar in everything. Sometimes it felt like the only thing they shared was their birthdate and last name; other times it felt like they were the only ones who could understand the other. Sirius was probably one of the few who could convince Hermione to show her mischievous side, and Hermione always managed to calm down a reckless Sirius, when his emotions took over. Sometimes it was the opposite, she admitted.

Once they started eating, with the rest of the boys now also seated at the Gryffindor table, Hermione turned to face the same redhead girl from the train. She didn't want to start the year with any misunderstandings and surely, she had always wanted a girl friend. The Pureblood girls she’d been forced to meet were always quick to bawl their eyes out when they had been left with Hermione.

Catching her eye, she gave her a timid smile and offered her hand. "Hi! I'm Hermione Black."

The redhead stiffened, and Hermione almost thought the girl would ignore her, but in no time, she received a shy smile. "I'm Lily Evans."

Slowly but surely, they began chatting about their interests and she was surprised to learn of how much they had in common. They both liked books and even invited Remus in on the conversation, once they started talking about Shakespeare’s works. Throughout the dinner, other girls like Alice Fawcett and Marlene McKinnon started talking as well. She soon found out that the four of them were going to be roommates.

Hermione didn’t fail to notice was that Remus Lupin was quite shy, so she often addressed him in hopes of getting him to loosen up around her. "Remus," she began wryly, as she eyed his future roommates. "I have a feeling you're going to be dealing with a lot of mess from these boys."

A rare, amused smile curled at his lips. "That's no problem, Hermione. Perhaps, I will have them deal with my own mess, too."

Sirius barked out a loud laugh and slung his arm around Remus’s shoulders. "Fine by me! We're going to come up with so many good pranks."

Hermione raised her brow, a smile still on her face. "As long as I don't get caught in any of your mess, I won't say a word."

"Are you saying you're going to be making some pranks of your own, princess?" James asked, disbelief clear in his voice. She guessed it was hard to believe someone who liked books could also do some pranks.

"Of course." She smiled slyly and continued offhandedly, "I have a feeling you'll be needing my help soon."

She may not have openly joked around as much as Sirius and Regulus, but that was only because of her mother and Kreacher keeping a watch on her. They were not here though, so all her knowledge and talent _could_ be appreciated.

"Oh I wouldn't bet on that! I'll have you know I'm very experienced," he threw back, his chest puffing out with pride.

She snorted, suddenly feeling free of any burdens and responsibilities handed by her parents. "Oh, I have no doubt, if you're anything like my brother."

Sirius gave his new friend a smug smile. "I'd consider that a compliment, if I were you, mate."

James gave her a thoughtful look as he messed his hair and leaned closer to her over the table. "Why, thank you, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked away. She could feel someone's eyes on her and glanced abruptly to her side. Was Lily smirking? Her eyes flickered to the other girls. It seemed like Lily wasn't the only one.

* * *

"You two are so cute."

"Hermione! He kept looking at you."

Hermione stared at them in confusion. "Er, what?"

Lily scoffed, but there was no malice in her green eyes. "Come on. I dislike the way those boys talked to Sev on the train, but it's clear you caught his attention."

"I have no idea what you two are talking about. We met _five_ hours ago!" The girls were clearly disappointed, and Hermione hoped to Merlin that they would find something else to gossip about soon.

"Besides," she continued, with a wide grin on her face, "It seems like _red_ is his favourite colour, considering the way he kept eyeing _you_."

Alice and Marlene chortled at the scowl on Lily's face, but that was not what Hermione focused on, at the moment. Her headache had gotten a lot worse during the dinner, pounding painfully, and she assumed that perhaps sleep would help her get rid of it.

And as she laid on her new mattress and slammed her eyes close, she let her mind wander off to the Sorting Hat’s words. _Golden Girl?_


	3. No Daughter of Mine

**September, 1971.**

The boys all settled down in their dorm after dinner. James was glad to see how easily they'd bonded together. All he had meant to do was just randomly sit next to Remus and Peter on the train, and once Sirius and Hermione had joined, he didn't expect to feel so close to them already. They had already talked about Quidditch, their families, and even the pranks they'd pulled on them.

After Sirius explained how his sister and brother, Regulus Black, often went against him during prank wars, they began to talk more about Hermione.

"So, James," a voice called, and he looked at Remus, nodding at him to continue. "What do you think about Hermione?"

The image of a bushy haired girl flashed in his mind, continuing to talk enthusiastically about their future classes even in his thoughts. He admitted she’d looked rather adorably when he’d first seen her, pouting on the ground before he pulled her up.

Sirius eyed the two boys. "My sister? Yeah. What do you think?"

"Er. She's . . . nice. Hard to believe Sirius is her twin," James answered carefully, deciding that talking about her nice looks to her brother would be an idiotic decision.

Sirius snorted loudly. "Mate, she may be nice, but you don't want to get on her bad side. After all, she _is_ my twin."

"And Remus, if she finds out about that stock of books you have, she'll never leave you alone. You better hide," Sirius added, chuckling at the addressed corner, where the sandy haired boy had already neatly stacked up his set of books.

"Eh, I don't mind sharing. I'm assuming the books you have in your bag are hers too. Does that mean you are being a clingy brother and keeping her books to make sure she never leaves?" Remus teased, and James wass glad that he sounded a bit more comfortable with them.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Please, they may be hers but no! She has her own pile and she just asked me to take care of more of her stuff. Why she thinks I would be the right person to take care of it, I have no idea," he laughed with a shrug. "Maybe I should leave it to one of you."

"I don't mind," Peter piped in, blushing furiously at the attention he'd caught from all of them. "Taking care of her books I mean."

The 'older' twin narrowed his eyes. "Careful there, mate. 'Mione's still my sister."

Peter ducked his head and avoided the brother's eyes. "O-Of course."

James nodded along to whatever Sirius was saying, although his focus was elsewhere, anyways. He shook his head. He wasn't going to let books be on his mind on the first day of school. He needed to get some sleep and perhaps, find a way to befriend the redhead he'd ended up infuriating.

* * *

It didn't take long for James to wake up the next morning and make his way down to breakfast. He snickered loudly, when he saw Sirius trying to put the spoon in his mouth, with his lids barely peeled open.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Hermione walking around the table and making her way to sit in front of him. Her curls were flying - well, _everywhere_, and she looked like she had barely slept.

He yelled, "Morning sunshine!" in an attempt to cheer her up, but she merely grumbled under her breath. She put her head on Sirius's shoulder and tried to grab a toast from the table, her eyes still closed.

Grinning widely, he held her wrist to stop her from spilling a glass of pumpkin juice. He turned her palm upwards and placed a toast on top of it. Hermione finally peered at him, giving him a beaming smile, leaving him with a curious stutter in his chest. He raised his hand to mess with his hair and looked around, hoping no one had noticed the pink spots on his cheeks.

The Great Hall was slowly starting to look more like last night. All the students seemed to have awakened, with the chattering that echoed around the room. Owls were making their way to the tables as they caught students' attention with loud hoots.

James recognized his mom's owl and fed her a piece of bacon. He opened his letter and quickly read it over, before writing a reply on a short parchment that he’d pulled out of his bag. Levia took it from him and managed a glare through round eyes, quickly flying away.

James never understood what he'd done for the owl to despise him so much.

He glanced up to an owl that dropped two letters in front of Sirius and Hermione, flying away immediately and not waiting for a reply. With one eye barely open, Hermione grabbed the letter and fumbled with her hands, trying to open it.

It was then that James noticed the bright red cover and paled.

"Wait—" he tried to stop her, but the letter burst out in the same loud, screeching voice he'd heard recently.

"HERMIONE CASSIOPEIA BLACK. HOW DARE YOU NOT BE SORTED IN SLYTHERIN?! YOUR FATHER AND I ARE INCREDIBLY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU. YOU ARE NO DAUGHTER OF MINE! YOU'VE DISHONOURED THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK! YOU ARE A SHAME!"

A heavy silence settled in the room, and James watched as Hermione pursed her lips and pointed her wand at the second Howler, which was waiting to burst in front of her brother.

"_Incendio_," she murmured and fixed a misty glare at the fire that pulverized the letter.

Ignoring Sirius's concerned gaze, she then let out a heavy sigh and stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Remus looked at her, his green eyes wide in worry. "Hermione—"

Hermione cut him off with a tight, small smile. "It's okay. I'll see you in Charms."

He could immediately hear the shake in her voice, and he clenched his hands, filled with an immense rage at the sender of the Howler. His stomach settled with tight knots as he thought of how Hermione must be feeling.

Sirius cursed under his breath, looking at the people who were watching her leave. It included pretty much everyone, along with the teachers that sat at the High Table. Dumbledore seemed to be letting out a disappointed sigh, while the Head of their House was evidently fuming.

"Damn you, crazy old bat. I'll go check on Hermione." With that, Sirius groaned loudly and stormed out of the Hall, not before sending his cousin, Narcissa Black, a fierce scowl.


	4. Waste of Time

**September, 1971.**

Hermione could hear the distinct sound of footsteps as she walked away. She stopped in an empty hallway, hoping the silence would swallow whole whatever she was feeling at the moment.

Her mother had often reprimanded her, but never did Hermione hear her mother dismiss her as if she wasn't her daughter. Though, it did bring some sort of embarrassment to her, she forced to shove it deep down in the confines of her heart. _Why_ should she be ashamed of being sorted in Gryffindor? None of this made sense to her. It was supposed to just be a bloody House. It wasn't supposed to make a mother yell at her children!

While Hermione knew that she shouldn't expect love and coddling from Walburga Black, it was impossible not to. It'd always been that sodding hole in her chest, making her hope she could eventually feel safe in her mother's arms. Instead, she was forced to look at those arms as she waited to be hit in reprimand for her actions.

"Hermione?"

Her brother placed a hand on her shoulders, pulling her into a tight embrace once he turned her around. "Don't let her words get to you. I've seen how happy you are here, and you've seen how happy _I_ am here. Why should we let her ruin this for us?"

Hermione buried her face against his chest, trying not to flinch at the reminder of their mother.

"Sirius," she eventually said, and she hated the way her voice cracked. "I don't know what I would've done if I'd let you hear yours, too."

He immediately pulled back to give her a lazy, reassuring grin. "It's fine, Hermione. You know I don't give a flying bat of what she thinks of me."

She shook her head, trying not to think about all the stuff their mother might've said to Sirius. A sudden wave of fury ran through her body at the possibilities, and she knew Sirius was right. She wasn't going to let the woman, who wasn't even there, ruin everything!

She then nodded enthusiastically at his words, while his grin quickly slipped off when she said, "Come on. Let's find the library before our first class."

* * *

The rest of the day was somewhat pleasant. Hermione was excited for every class they had, and just before dinner could begin, she immediately went back to the library to get a better look at it.

The boys and her roommates had plainly refused to spend their first day in a library, so Hermione had just shrugged at them and made her way down by herself.

Once she smelled the fresh smell of parchment and ink, she let her feet lead her on their own. She barely knew where to start from! From magical beasts to different types of Potions, she gathered every book that caught her attention. Having the Black library at home had helped her immensely with getting ready for not just her first year, but also her second. So, despite some of the texts being rather advanced, she tried to drink in all the new information like she would have at home. 

_This_ was also her home now.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught someone approach her table, and she looked up to find Snape glaring at her.

"Fancy seeing you here," she drawled on evenly, groaning inwardly at his presence.

"You put on quite a show this morning," he blurted out with a bite in his tone.

_Ah, yes_, not everyone had bothered to forget about the event, much to her displeasure. She stared at him incredulously. "I did? I think you're talking about my mother."

"No," he scoffed and rolled his eyes as though he was talking to a little child. "I _agree_ with her. You put on a show by getting sorted in Gryffindor and then crying over it."

Hermione glared darkly at the boy, her chest rising and falling at the annoyance that she struggled to restrain. "Not that I don't feel flattered, but it seems that you loathe me enough to spend your time talking to me."

Snape peeled his lips back from his teeth in a snarl. "Listen here, Black—"

Behind them, a voice yelled "Snivellus!" and Hermione immediately cringed. She was _not_ going to get stuck between the two again. She looked behind the Slytherin’s head and stood up at an instant, placing a placating hand on James’s arm once he joined them at the table.

"James. Er, what are you doing here? Let's go," she insisted and nudged him to move.

James ignored her and looked defiantly at the Slytherin, who was now glaring at him. "How do you feel about your friend ending up in Gryffindor now, Snivellus?"

Hermione shoved her things in her bag and scowled at her friend. "Stop calling him that! And what are you doing here?"

"I was coming to get you, so you won't miss dinner," he explained, his cautious eyes flickering between them. "Then I saw him talking to you, so I thought you might need some help not drowning in grease."

She went to interrupt him again, just to have Snape growl, "Watch it, Potter." He then left the library in rage, and she let out a defeated sigh.

"James, I don't need you to talk to him like that, when I was handling it well on my own."

"He shouldn't be talking to you in the first place," he argued fiercely, confusion etched on his face as to why she wasn’t agreeing with him. But Hermione had grown with the need to not require anyone else in her defence, and she couldn’t change that overnight.

Instead, she ignored the comment and pointed an accusing finger at him. "You shouldn't be calling him names!"

It was not going to go anywhere. Hermione gathered that much. All she could hope was that the apparent rivalry that had formed would die out in a few days. "Let's just go eat," she insisted when he kept glaring at the empty spot where Snape had previously been.

They eventually reached the Gryffindor table in a comfortable silence, slipping in their respective seats.

"What took you so long?" asked Peter and when Hermione told him of what had occurred in the library, Sirius snorted loudly. Ignoring their apparent amusement on the matter, she began eating.

When her thoughts strayed to the nightmare from last night, she wondered if she'll get one again. It hadn’t even been completely a nightmare, per se. There had been _flashes_ of images: the glimpse of a man with a serpentine face looking down at her, and the cackling laughter of a woman filling the room. It had sounded oddly familiar, every time she thought about it.

She shuddered at the memory, and she told herself it was just a nightmare. _Just a nightmare._

* * *

Hermione fell asleep in the hopes of not being awakened in the next few hours. However, her desire soon appeared to be rather weak in contrast to her evil mind.

_"The cup must be hidden. Now! Go." The man raised his wand at an elderly woman, letting her bleed to death. Blood was all over the place. Then there was darkness. There were footsteps. There were screams that could be heard all around her. "They're coming!" someone yelled._

Hermione sat up in an attempt to even out her breathing. Beads of sweat formed around her face and she felt too drained to even think about going back to sleep. She exhaled a large breath one last time as she laid back down. This time, she stayed awake, acutely aware of the ache in her head.


	5. Damn Inbreeding

**September, 1971.**

When Hermione woke up the next morning, she knew something was wrong. She stared at the reflection in front of her, grimacing at her pale face, with her bush of hair threatening to swallow it whole. Her hands were trembling, with her desperately waiting for the dark circles under her eyes to disappear. She let out a loud groan when they obviously didn't.

"Are you alright?"

She quickly hid the grimace that was threatening to appear on her face. "I'm fine," she said, more to herself than the girl asking. "Let's head down for breakfast."

Lily bit her lip and to Hermione's relief, she didn't argue. They descended the staircase and after looking around the common room, Hermione stopped to glance at the opposite staircase. "I don't think Sirius is up yet, so I'll go wake him up."

Once the redhead shrugged and left for breakfast, she made her way the boys' dorm. Opening the door, she was greeted with the soft sound of snoring coming from three beds, except for Remus's. The latter was laying on his side, allowing her a glimpse of the small, faint scars on his cheek. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to find her brother's bed.

She noticed James's mouth, shaped like an 'o' as he snored lightly. She grinned at the sight of his unruly hair sprawled all over his pillow, and held back a snort at the thought of her not being the only one with bad bed hair.

Finally finding her brother, Hermione walked over to his bed and poked his cheek with her finger.

"Wake up!" she whispered. When he didn't move, she lightly shook his shoulders. Still nothing. Narrowing her gaze at the asleep boy, she flicked her index finger on his forehead. He finally shot up and glared at her with bleary eyes.

"What the—" he sputtered.

A groan was heard from James's bed and she ducked her head to avoid the pillow he'd shot towards them.

Trying to not bother everyone else again, she huffed and tiptoed quietly to sit on the foot of Sirius's bed.

Hermione raised her hands in surrender and explained, "I thought you might miss breakfast. Wouldn't want _my dear angel_ to go to class with an empty stomach."

The ends of his mouth lifted into an amused smile and, shrugging his blanket off of himself, he shot up to his feet. "Alright, I'm up! Let's go boys!"

Said boys started protesting and the twins laughed, their eyes sparkling with mischief.

* * *

"You look terrible."

Hermione grunted, still not looking up from her cup of coffee. Never did she think she would be so grateful for the existence of caffeine. "Why, thank you," she deadpanned.

James gave her a sickeningly sweet smile, apparently keen on ignoring her tone.

"I think what James meant to say was that," Remus started kindly, darting his eyes between the two, "You look a bit sick. Are you alright?"

She looked at Remus and contemplated whether telling them about the nightmares would be a good idea. It sounded a bit silly, now that she thought about it. Everyone had bad dreams once in a while. She didn't want to look more like their friend's little sister more than she already did.

But then again, her nightmares were truly making her experience at Hogwarts much worse. She had been waiting to come to the castle ever since she’d first heard of it, but now that she'd actually stepped foot inside, all she’d gotten from the castle was a permanent headache and horrid nightmares.

"Hermione?" called Remus, his tone bleeding with worry.

Startled, she looked up to meet her new friend's concerned gaze. "I'm okay. Just a little tired," she replied with what she hoped looked like a reassuring smile.

When she felt James’s stare on her, she watched him curiously for a couple of seconds, then quickly averted her eyes.

James furrowed his brows as he flicked his eyes across her pale skin. Her now ashen face forced the freckles scattered across her nose to stand out even more. Of course, James didn't know what they usually looked like, he insisted to himself. He then noticed the bags under her eyes, and he frowned deeply, wondering if she was sleeping well.

Remus cleared his throat and James saw the boy look at him with an arched brow. He rolled his eyes and went back to eating, ignoring the pointed look he was given.

Sirius nudged her shoulder with his own. "James and I have been discussing what to do for Halloween this year, and we had a few ideas. You'll help us, right?"

She pursed her lips, hoping to hide the grin curving on her lips. "I'm not sure - will I?"

"Come on," he insisted. "What do I have to do this time to convince you?"

Hermione shot him a winning smile. After all, she was aware that every time Sirius needed help with a prank, he would do anything to persuade her. Though, at the moment, all she needed was silence and perhaps some answers.

"Now, that's more like it. I'll let you know soon, but for now just behave while I go to the library."

She ruffled his jet back hair and gave him a sad puppy look when he hissed, "Hermione, _not the hair!_"

* * *

Hermione decided she'd waited long enough and strolled to the only place she knew she could currently confide in. There was still time until her first class, so she had made her way to Madame Pince and asked about where the books on nightmares could be. The older woman looked weary, but swiftly pointed her hand to the farther back shelves.

It was unusual, feeling dread as she opened the book in front of her. She knew something was wrong, because never in her life, she'd been so scared of something from a library so much. Hermione quickly took that back when she thought of the Dark books that her mother had tried forcing her to read at the age of eight.

Skimming over the pages, she observed a pattern of possible curses inflicted on the person to cause headaches and nightmares. She placed it on top of the unhelpful pile, as she knew that she hadn't been hexed so far; not at Hogwarts, at least.

She dropped her head into her hands and exhaled a sigh. Life had a strange desire of getting more complicated as time passed by.

* * *

"Remember how you asked me if I was alright?"  


Remus blinked at her, waiting for her to continue.  


"Well, are _you_ okay? You've been looking a bit pale, too," she questioned and looked over at his hunched back and the sweat forming on his forehead.  


He ducked his head at her scrutinizing look. "Don't worry. I've just been a little under the weather," he reassured her softly.  


Hermione wanted to insist on taking him to the infirmary, but she knew that she'd also avoided his questions earlier, so she let it go. They turned their attention to the Fat Lady, who'd just opened the doors for James. The boy walked towards them, a dreamy look on his face.  


The duo simply stared at him.  


"Guess who just fell in love," he finally blurted out.  


They simultaneously quirked a brow at him.  


"Me! Can you believe that _Evans_ talked to me?"  


With a part encouraging, part amused smile, she drawled, "And how did little James get her to talk?"  


He grinned at her question and jumped on one of the chairs. "I was walking towards the tower, yeah? Then I saw one of her quills fall out of her bag, so being the gentleman I am, I picked it up! _And_ I touched her hand!"  


Remus rolled his eyes, slowly closing the book he was reading. "And what did she say?" he asked carefully.  


When Hermione heard him reply "Toerag," she couldn't hold back a snicker. She covered her mouth with her hands, even though it was clear that he’d already heard her, by the way he was glaring at her.   


"Why are you laughing?" he grumbled, shooting both of them an annoyed look.  


She glanced at Remus, who was also trying his best to keep a straight face but failing miserably.  


"I just," she paused to laugh incredulously once more. "Oh Merlin. I just—I can't believe you chose the girl that has been hating you from the very first day."  


"She doesn't hate me," he argued, sounding so sure, that Hermione _almost_ felt bad for him. "We've just had a little misunderstanding."  


"Yeah?" she challenged. "And how are you going to fix that?"  


"You'll see." With the return of that faraway smile on his face, he walked away and almost stumbled on a step.  


Hermione looked back at Remus. "Should we be worried?"  


He shrugged and they eventually burst out laughing, full tears streaming down their faces until their stomachs began to hurt.

* * *

_"_ _I will rise," the man hissed. He looked down at the wooden pavement and with a flick of his wand, a circle surrounded his figure. A ring flew from the hidden basement and a hand grasped it. No longer visioning the golden flicker of the jewelry, the only light in the dark was the red eyes the individual sported._ _   
_

Hermione gasped for breath, allowing the visions to fade away. She looked to grab onto the nearest thing she could find in an attempt to ground her shaking body. When she felt a hand on top of hers, she gasped and squinted her eyes in the dark.

"Lily?" she asked through a hoarse voice, when ginger hair her caught her view.

Lily squeezed her hand. "You looked like you were having a nightmare and started screaming." At Hermione's panicked look, she added, "Don't worry! I put a silencing spell immediately."

Relief shot through her body. The last thing she needed was for all of the girls to lose sleep because of her. She sat up on her elbows and said, "Thank you. I'm sorry for waking you up."

"Do you want to talk about—"

"No, please sleep. I think I'll go to the common room for a while," she insisted. She already felt mortified over being discovered like that by her dorm mate, she could barely think of what Lily would think of her if she were to find out what she dreamed of.

Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she dragged her feet towards the fireplace and laid down on the sofa set in front of it. Hermione grabbed a book from her bag and settled under a blanket. Her head was throbbing and if she wasn't going to sleep, she would better start reading.

* * *

James shuffled under his blanket. He heard Remus shut the door behind him, and he opened his eyes blearily, watching as he walked towards Sirius’s bed.  "I have a question," he announced to the boy, who was clearly struggling to stay asleep. Remus continued to shake his shoulders.

"Go away," the twin mumbled in protest.

Remus rolled his eyes, still wearing a serious face. "It's about Hermione," he told him.

At that, Sirius immediately sat up, kicking his blanket on the floor in the midst of it. "What happened? What's wrong?" he asked, wide eyes full of panic.

"She's alright, I think? I don't know, mate. I saw her reading in the common room and she looked like she didn't sleep all night."

James frowned as he sat up, and he hurried to walk towards them. "I was wondering if she even sleeps at all. Did you see what she looked like yesterday?"

Sirius let out a shaky sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I saw and I—" he huffed. "I thought it was because of the Howler, but I don't think she'd be getting sick because of that. Not when worse things have happened."

_Worse things_. "What do you mean worse?" James questioned slowly.

Sirius cursed under his breath and shot them a guarded look. "Well, looks like it's story time at . . . six o'clock," he murmured before glancing towards Peter.

Once they woke him up as well, they sat on the floor and waited for him to continue.

"Okay, so you've all heard the Howler, right? That was our _lovely_ mother, Walburga Black," he remarked dryly. "She has always been strict with us, but especially with Hermione. Growing up, Regulus and I got our fair share of rants from her and our Father, but they were especially hard on Hermione, because of the amount of responsibility they wanted to put on her."

"She's the daughter of a Pureblood family, which means that according to our Mother, she needs to meet the expectations of men. Whenever she was caught pranking with us, she would get reprimanded. Whenever she woke up late, she would get reprimanded. Whenever she didn't dress properly, she would get reprimanded. Sometimes, they got mad at her for simply helping out our bloody house elf."

Everyone in the room inhaled sharply, trying to take in what they'd just heard. Peter muttered, "That's awful," and they all nodded, paling at the implications of how she might’ve been punished.

James’s brows knitted together, deep in thought. "Er—She looks so . . . I don't know. I would've never thought she would've gone through _that_. For someone who's always been told what to do, she's still not as frigid as the other Pureblood girls," James voiced with a tinge of admiration.

Sirius shrugged and fidgeted with his hands. "She never let their lessons get to her. That's just how Hermione is. She's the strongest witch I know. She wasn't always like this, though."

His frown deepened and he continued, "I remember when we were just kids, and she would often hide behind me. One day, something happened and suddenly, she was standing right _beside_ me. I don't even know half of the stuff they try to drill in her mind, but our parents have never been able to change her. Her and I often sneaked out of the house to see Muggle shops and whenever 'dirty Muggles' were discussed, she would scoff loudly and mutter 'dirty inbreeds', knowing damn well that they could hear her. She's an idiot, but still bloody fantastic."

James pressed his lips into a thin line. His mind kept going back to the first time he'd met her. Her whiskey, caramel eyes had widened at him and even with the blush creeping up on her cheeks, she'd stood up confidently and smiled. She had even introduced herself, ignoring her mom's screeching.

Then again, he thought of the day she had gotten the Howler. She'd looked so - unfazed, as if she hadn’t been yelled at, at all. 

"That witch doesn't care, does she?" he asked incredulously as everything dawned on him.

Sirius gave him a weak half-smile and stood up. "She _does_ care. I think she just wants to look tough. Sometimes I get mad at her for always provoking them and then getting hurt, but I think I know what she's trying to do; what she has always been trying to do. She hopes she can change their minds and when she fails to do so, she often ends up being the one to protect me and Reg."

"Still, I haven't seen her break in a long time and now . . ." His smile slowly faded and his sad eyes dropped to the floor. "I'm worried about my baby sister."

James immediately stood up and clapped his friend's back, feeling a strong fire ignite inside of him. "She's not alone. We're all here to help her."

* * *

When he stood in front of the couch she was laying on, James noticed that one of her hands was twitching, and he knew that while the other was hidden under the book, it was most likely in the same state.

Once Sirius knelt on the floor and put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention, she started and dropped her book on her lap, turning her head towards her brother. After blinking several times, she smiled uneasily at him and looked back at the rest of them. "Good morning?"

James walked towards the end of the couch and sat down, pulling her feet on his lap. When he looked at her again, he saw a slow smile make its way on her face. Inhaling sharply and trying not to think back to what he'd just learned about her, he grinned. "Good morning, sunshine! What were you doing here?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Oh, uh - I was reading," she answered, showing him the book held between her hands. Before he could catch the title, she brought it back down to her lap and turned her eyes down towards Sirius.

"I've never seen you get up so early. Are you alright, little brother?" she teased.

Sirius was about to smile, but narrowed his eyes when he saw her hand. His fingers latched around her wrist, and he looked back at Hermione. "Why are your hands shaking?" he demanded.

James saw her stiffen, watching as she clenched her hand a couple of times. "It's probably because I'm hungry," she muttered and cleared her throat.

She then proceeded to stand abruptly and glance at the four of them. "So, get your arse up and head down while I get ready," she ordered haughtily, making her way up to her dorm.

They all stared at Sirius, uncertain on what to say now that she’d obviously avoided his questions. Feeling all eyes on him, the black-haired boy stood up and blinked at the empty spot on the couch.

"_Well_, that went . . . _well_."


	6. Mr. Prefect

**October, 1971.**

Before any of the boys could confront her again and she could crack under their intervention, the nightmares stopped. It was as if they'd never even happened. 

Of course, Hermione wasn't complaining. She finally got the chance to pay more attention in class and do her absolute best in each essay assigned for homework. Just like that, a month had passed by and Halloween was just around the corner.

She knew Sirius wanted to ask her for help and James was holding him back because of his pride. Still, the latter soon came around, and Sirius ended up asking her during breakfast. 

"Come on Hermione, you agreed to help us," he insisted, holding his hands as he pleaded.

With a roll of her eyes, Hermione promptly took a parchment and quill from her bag, and she wrote down her suggestion. While she was proud of herself for coming up with the idea, she still very much treasured the respect she’d gained by her Transfiguration Professor, also known as the Head of the Gryffindor House.

Her brother snatched it from her hands when she stopped writing, and he let out a loud bark of laughter. James eyed them curiously and finally relented, reading it from across the table.

Crossing her arms, she asked, "Does this satisfy your goal?"

By the end of the meal, she’d received a beaming smile and bone crushing hug, before her brother decided it was enough and separated them both.

* * *

Just as she was about to sit in her Potions class, she realized that she’d forgotten her book on her bed. Mentally cursing herself, she grabbed her bag and ran to the Gryffindor tower as discreetly as she could. 

After hurrying up her dorm and going back to an irritated Fat Lady, she finally made her way back to the dungeons.

She knew she was already late anyways, so she decided to check her bag to make sure she wasn't missing anything else. She was put to a stop when she slammed into sheer force and her bag fell to the floor. She got even more annoyed when she looked up to see the Prefect from the train.

The blond boy sent her a fierce glare. "What are you doing out of class, Black? You should know, at the very least, that a proper lady doesn't run."

"I don't see why I owe you an explanation, considering I don't know you," she retorted hotly, her frown growing by the second.

He looked at her in outrage. "How does the daughter of Orion Black not know who the heir of Abraxas Malfoy is?"

She inwardly groaned, plotting her escape before she could get in further trouble with a Malfoy. Out of all people, she really had to annoy someone who knew her parents personally. 

Hermione only hoped that they won't hear of it. Though, she was still very convinced of them having a spy at Hogwarts, to constantly check on her behaviour.

"I'm sorry for having more interesting things to read about. Your family tree can get a bit dull," she explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Keep that tongue in check before you regret it. I'm letting you go now, but next time your brother might have to pay a much higher price for your mistakes. Also, ten points from Gryffindor."

Refusing to control the rage that lashed inside of her, she pointed her wand at him. She was not going to let a pompous git go around threatening her brother. "No, _you_ listen! The next time you find it smart to even _think_ about hurting my brother, you will regret it faster than your Father regrets having your conceited arse. Now before you have to pay that higher price, I’ll be leaving!"

Not waiting for a response, she ignored the string of curses he let loose and stormed to the dungeons.

* * *

Hermione sat in the Common Room, helping Sirius and James with their Charms essay, while Remus helped Peter. Lily was still refusing to hang around the boys, and Hermione didn't care to convince her. 

After her confrontation with Malfoy, she wanted to do anything but repeat the correct pronunciation of a Charm over and over again.

Hermione wrinkled her nose at her brother. "Sirius, stop sticking your wand in your ear! James, please. It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa. Make the 'gar' nice and long," she corrected, exasperated and no longer caring for the attention she was gathering from nearby students.

Once they finally finished and Remus asked her how it had gone for her, she didn't feel bad for saying that she’d wanted to rip her hair out.

James reassured her, "Trust me, that would be a favour for all of us."

She slowly stood up and made her way towards him in silent but long strides. Sirius, being aware of what was about to happen, glanced at his friend and yelled, "Oh no, run!"

Just as he was finished saying that, the boy addressed took off in a frightened hurry and she rushed after him. Eventually, the rest of the Gryffindor students cheered for them as they both ran in circles. 

James was trying his best to safely make his way towards his dorm without slowing down, while Hermione was running with the sole goal of stopping him and showing him what the bushy haired witch could do.

Finally, he jumped on the couch with his arms up in surrender. With loud, heavy breaths, he looked at her and pleaded, "I'm sorry, Hermione. Did I ever tell you how much I love your hair?"

She stopped in front of him and chuckled sweetly, cupping his cheek with her hand. "One day, you will be a dear and actually mean it." 

With that, she gave them a dramatic salute and walked away with the hopes of a peaceful slumber.

James wheezed out a pant, looking at the other Black twin, that was still guffawing with his finger pointed at James. 

"Bloody hell."


	7. Andy's Problem

**October, 1971.**

The next day, James woke up to the chatter regarding the very first Quidditch match: Ravenclaw against Slytherin. He was sure they would have to get there early before the stands got too crowded with overly excited students.

At least, that was what he thought, until he found a certain witch who wasn't eager to watch the game, at all.

He looked at the brunette, her curls softly falling on her shoulders while she sipped her coffee.

"How can you not like Quidditch?"

She merely looked up from her book and rolled her eyes. "Well, I might've liked it if I enjoyed flying, but I don't," she replied, like she'd seen it coming and then, she looked at Sirius. "And he never needed me to play with him because he had Reggie, so I've had enough of just watching over these two."

James blinked at her, trying to find a way to convince her to come. Why did everything have to be challenging with her?

Now, she had even managed to make him curious to see her flying outside of Madam Hooch's class, even though he knew that she would never agree.

"If you come, you'll get to see the snakes getting crushed," he pointed out, snatching the book out of her hands and standing nice and tall.

She narrowed her eyes at him and stood up on her tiptoes, in an attempt to reach his height and get it back from him. "I hope you're aware that means my cousin will be getting crushed, too."

She was right, like _always_. James had admittedly forgotten about Andromeda Black. The Black twins had gotten him so used to being around them, that he was more surprised at other Blacks being in the Slytherin House. Before he could find another excuse, Sirius snorted loudly, his face twisted on the side.

"_Herms_, I think she has forgotten about us being her cousins. Don't you think she'd have come to see us by now?"

Hermione turned around to face him, sorrow clear in her face, and she mumbled something under her breath.

"What was that?" her brother taunted.

She huffed and finally answered clearly, "I said she doesn't want to gather attention because she's already dealing with a boy." When she looked at their expression, clearly expecting more from her, she whispered, "A Muggleborn boy."

After a couple of beats of silence, Sirius scratched the back of his neck, cheeks colouring slightly, and he murmured something along the lines of owing her an apology.

"Er - Hermione, will you show us the spell we're supposed to use for Halloween?" James questioned, realizing that it was his chance to steer away from the subject before it got too uncomfortable for them.

She hummed with a nod. "I'll show you the wand movements later, with the right pronunciation written down and everything. Leave it to you to ask on the last day," she said, shaking her head with an exasperated smile playing at her lips.

His own lips twitched over the thought of making his friend laugh and distract her from what he'd been planning to convince her for, and he took her hand to finally drag her to the Quidditch Pitch. She didn't say a word in protest, if not to catch the book in his grasp, and the rest of the boys followed his lead.

James didn't bother letting go of her hand as they left the castle. The warmth he felt had spread from his hand all the way to his chest, and he didn't quite want to let the freezing cold take over so soon.

But once Hermione sat down between him and Remus, she let go of it, much to his body's dismay. He quickly buried the feeling inside. Perhaps, for the cold to leave his mind, he needed to catch the glimpse of a fiery redhead witch. Or even just watch the game that was starting in a couple of seconds.

As he watched the players, he started to imagine what it'd be like for _him_ to play on the field, instead. It was a pity that first years weren't allowed to bring their brooms, as James was certainly planning on using his own, when trying out for the Gryffindor team.

.

Two hours into the game, the scores were tied, and each Seeker was looking for the Snitch in hopes of taking over the game. Just after someone screamed _'Snitch'_, he watched Lucius Malfoy fly around the crowded seating area in search of the gold piece of victory.

Out of the corner of his eye, James saw its obvious glint appear in front of Hermione, who was still engrossed in her book. Before he could point it out, the Slytherin Seeker had flown right in front of her, a slow smirk on his face.

James glanced at her cautiously, watching as she looked up and blinked in surprise. The Quidditch player held out his palm and before she could question his sanity, he caught the Snitch, securing it in his hand.

"Really, Black? If you wanted me to win, all you had to do was wear green," he sneered arrogantly.

The witch visibly clenched her teeth in frustration and looked at the boy, sparks of magic starting to make her hair come to life. James recognized her dislike over attention immediately, but he didn't bother warning Malfoy.

He was irritated by the fact that Hermione still hadn't hexed him at this point. Instead, she sent the boy a scathing look. "Shove off, Malfoy."

Malfoy opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it. He shook his head with a cocky smile and flew to the rest of his team, celebrating for their win.

"Like hell I'll watch one of these again," she muttered darkly and with that, she slammed her book shut and walked away, letting her hair hide her burning face.

* * *

Pointedly ignoring the whispers around her, Hermione walked up to Andromeda. The older witch's eyes widened in surprise and she threw herself at Hermione, holding her tightly.

"I'm so glad you came to see me," Andromeda said as she drew a long breath, sniffing emotionally into the embrace. "I have a feeling I won't be seeing you soon."

With a confused look, Hermione pulled back to look at the mist in her cousin's grey eyes. "What are you talking about?"

She swallowed visibly, biting her lips before she said, "Father found out about Ted. Grandfather is planning on disowning me."

Hermione's lips parted on a gasp and for a moment, she doubted she'd heard her right. "Can they do that? Over love—something that you have _no_ control over! What will you do?"

She knew she was rambling in panic, but she didn't hold herself back from pulling Andromeda back into another hug. Blinking back the tears that threatened to fall, she cursed her family for abandoning their own.

Andromeda pulled back and cupped her face with her soft hands. "Don't worry, love. Teddy said he'll support me, and we are planning to find a place after graduation."

Hermione felt useless at the thought of not being able to help her without being disowned herself. What was the point of possessing so much wealth, when it couldn't be used to help those she called her family?

Ever since she'd been a kid, Andromeda had been the only member she especially looked up to. Apart from her brothers and Uncle Alphard, it was hard to feel great fondness for anyone other than her. Now that her cousin was going to leave the family, Hermione wondered if she would even be allowed to meet her in public.

She imagined that they'd now have to sneak out for Muggle shops _and_ Andy.

* * *

Just as midnight passed, Hermione woke up from the kind of nightmare she'd feared for over a month. She shuddered at the figure's red eyes, a cold, callous smile on his face as he pointed his wand at her. When she glanced around, the village was filled with students, but it seemed like no one could see her and the individual.

Unable to swallow her fear whole and go back to sleep, she allowed her feet to take her to the Common Room again. When she reached the couch though, she stopped abruptly at the sight of James.

He was snoring slightly, with his knees tucked under his chin. A loving smile slipped on her lips and she quietly joined him with a book in her hands.

After some time, he stirred in his sleep and his head eventually found its way on her shoulder. Slowly through the night, she fell asleep as well, with the raven-haired boy's head on her lap and her fingers buried under his untidy locks.


	8. Halloween

**October, 1971.**

The next morning greeted Hermione with a loud thud. As she peeled her eyes open and came face to face with an annoyed Sirius, her neck still stiff. She was also forced to notice the lack of warmth she'd felt when she'd gone to sleep later that night.

Her brother continued to glare at her, quiet but intense anger brimming in his features, and she attempted to get out of whatever she may have done.

"Good morning?" she finally tried in a small voice.

Her head snapped down to the floor, where she found their friend lying on the floor. The boy let out a groan and sat up, rubbing the top of his head to soothe the pain from his fall.

"Care to tell me why James is on the ground?" she questioned, still staring at her disgruntled friend.

"Care to tell me why you were sleeping here with him?" Sirius retorted loudly.

"_Oh._" Memories of the previous night came flooding back, and realization dawned on her.

Purposely skipping the details of the dream, she focused on how she'd fallen asleep with her hands buried in his soft hair. Hermione blushed as she looked around, hoping no one else had seen them together in such a position.

If the girls were to come to know about it, they would find yet another reason to tease her about James.

After giving much thought on what to say, she merely shrugged. "I'm not sure. I was reading and then, I fell asleep." She stared at her brother's discomfort and scoffed loudly at where his mind was probably going. "Merlin, Sirius. We are eleven!"

Sirius continued to fret over her for a few seconds, but turned his attention towards his best mate, who also sported matching pink tints on his cheeks.

"Well . . . she _was_ alone, so I acted like the gentleman I am and kept her company," he explained, puffing out his chest with sheer pride. She didn't care to correct him and mention how he had been _asleep_ the whole time.

Sirius seemed to be thinking something along those lines. "By falling asleep on her lap?" he deadpanned.

James feigned indignation. "That was totally unplanned!"

"Just like her hands being stuck in your hair?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. That was all Hermione!" argued James, his brows knitted together as both boys looked back at her.

Hermione shrugged again and smiled sheepishly when her brother narrowed his eyes at her. In hopes of taking over the conversation, she decided to remind them about their plans. "Anyways, are you going to proceed with the prank I suggested?"

"You talk about it as if it's some business proposal," Sirius mumbled morosely. "And yes, we are. That's why I woke up so early in the first place."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Merlin forbid you decide to wake up for some other reason than your stupid adventures," she teased, thinking back at how Sirius and his friends had been quickly making their names known, bickering with the Slytherins - who weren't kind when getting back at them.

James let out a loud snort and finally stood up. To think that he'd really stayed on the floor the entire time . . . _strange boy_. "We should think of a name. You make us sound stupid."

"Who said you just _sound_ stupid. You _are_—" she was forced to a stop when a pillow flew over her head. Hermione gaped at James. "Hey!"

Sirius stepped up and put a distance between them with his hands. "Alright, alright. Can't believe I'm saying this, but we don't have time for pillow fights. We need to wake up the other . . . boys. Uhm - pranksters."

"_Pranksters_," Hermione repeated dryly. "How original."

James sniggered at the look Sirius sent her. "How about the _joy_ of Hogwarts, the diamonds, the treasure, the—"

"You guys? The _joy?_" she repeated slowly, skeptical of such a statement.

"—The Marauders and their escapades!" James finally finished, having ignored her comment.

After collectively agreeing with the name—even though Hermione refused to be included in such a group—they joined Sirius in efforts of waking Remus and Peter up.

The boys were so enthusiastic over their newfound name that they spent over _half an hour_ trying to come up with a song. Eventually, they gave up and moved on to making sure Hogwarts will remember the Marauders' first Halloween at the castle.

* * *

The day passed with numerous buckets of water being dropped in front of classroom doors, quills running around the halls with silly songs, and seventh years avoiding the boys as much as the first years.

By the time the feast came around, Hermione had been approached by numerous people that she didn't even know, asking her what the deal with her friends was.

When her dorm mates joined her at the table and asked her the same thing, she casually shrugged and denied any involvement. "Sorry ladies. I'm sworn to secrecy," she said with a grin.

However, with the boys sitting right by her side and the rest of the Great Hall's eyes on her, she struggled to keep a straight face and not be too noticeable in avoiding pumpkin juice.

"So much for not being associated with you guys," she murmured, glancing towards Peter, who had just whispered quite loudly to ask her what he shouldn't be touching.

James gave her a cocky smile and took a piece off his bread, preparing to throw it at her. Shock took over his face when she caught it mid air with her mouth. She arched her brow and turned to Remus, who was looking rather . . . ill, as much as she felt bad for thinking about it.

"What are your plans for tomorrow? Lily and I were planning to work on our Potions essay in the library," she informed him in a soft voice.

He stopped playing with his food and stiffened. He seemed rather pale and his scars appeared to be even more evident under the lights. Biting his lip, he eyed her apologetically. "I wish I could, but my aunt is sick, and I have to go see her."

A gasp tore out of her mouth. "Oh, no! I hope she feels better."

At her crestfallen look, Remus looked around the table before offering her a chocolate eclair. Hermione gave him a slight smile, still thinking about how _horrible_ he was at lying. She could tell that her friend was the one who was sick, not his aunt. However, she decided to let it go for now.

He'd obviously lied for a reason, and Hermione wasn't going to push him to say something he did not feel comfortable sharing.

As dinner carried on, the Marauders _and_ Hermione watched as red, blue, yellow and green mustaches began to appear around them.

The staff, including the Headmaster but not Professor McGonagall, looked rather amused and played with them around their fingers. Eventually, her and her friends decided to join in the fun and drink the juice, as well. A couple of seconds passed, and five red sets of newly grown hair now sat on their faces.

"Oh Merlin," she huffed out with a laugh. "We need to take a photograph and send it to Reggie!"

Sirius snickered and gave her a vigorous nod, looking for someone with a camera. Professor McGonagall, having somehow heard about their plans, approached them and said, "Rest assured, Mr. Black. I'll do it."

After getting over the shock, he gave the teacher a mischievous smile and threw his arms around Hermione. She looked at his face and laughed loudly, drowning out the sound of the camera shutter.

The evening ended with shared mirth and amused looks amongst all Houses - except _maybe_ Slytherin.

* * *

When she later faced the Fat Lady to give the password, the old portrait sniffed in annoyance. Hermione realized the woman may have felt excluded, so she made sure to tell her that next year she—wait, the _Marauders_ will make sure she was pranked, as well. It sounded odd but whatever made the portrait happy.

After receiving a rare, grateful smile from the woman, Hermione made her way to the Common Room.

Despite playing Exploding Snap with the boys, her heart couldn't help but hurt longingly at the thought of her little brother. "I miss Regulus," she said as they started the game for the _fifth_ time.

Sirius glanced over her, urging out a song from the back of his throat. "Can't imagine what it might be like spending Halloween alone with ol' Wally."

She was ready to chastise him for the nickname but didn't bother saying anything. What he had said _did_ get her wondering what he might be doing. "Maybe we should've sent him a letter along with the photo," she muttered out loud.

"I doubt Mother would let him read a letter from us, especially after she sees the picture."

"I—" she paused, dread gracing her features. "_Crap!_ I didn't realize that she would see it, too."

Her heart unconsciously began to slam loudly against her chest, appalling thoughts now running in her head. The possibilities of punishments she would be receiving were too many, and she wondered if she was Gryffindor enough to face them all.

A not so jolly Christmas awaited her.


	9. New Books

**December, 1971.**

Christmas break arrived faster than Hermione had hoped. With several thoughts now clouding her mind, along with the nightmares that continued, she let herself fail in becoming the student she had once hoped to become.

Her studies were still very much a priority, but it certainly became harder to focus, when fear constantly ran within her. She thought it was quite stupid of her, considering Sirius was also coming home with her and he still did nothing to stop coming up with pranks.

As she levitated her trunk and walked to the Common Room, she decided she needed to let go of the apprehension of going home. _Home_. _Her_ home, she reminded herself; where she will soon be sharing gifts with her brothers.

She waved at Peter and Remus. They were both sitting on the couch and the latter looked bored to tears. "Good morning," she said, walking to them and giving them both a peck on the cheek.

"Good morning," Remus said with a small smile. He looked at her trunk that now rested at the front of the entrance, and he added, "It's amazing how different you two are despite being twins."

She'd heard such a statement so many times, all for different reasons, that she was no longer surprised. Knitting her brows together, she asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Sirius didn't think of packing until a few minutes ago. Even _James_ got it done before him."

She rolled her eyes at her brother's anticipated behaviour. "I'm guessing he forced James to help him?"

After she received a nod, she reluctantly climbed up the stairs and entered their dorm. True to their reputation, the room was drowning in a sea of clothes, and two boys were frantically shoving everything down a trunk.

"Sirius Orion Black, do you have to do this every time?" she called in an exasperated voice.

Startled, he looked up at Hermione, giving her a puppy look that managed to look as real as the original. She let out a soft sigh and levitated everything from the floor that he would actually need for the holidays.

"Empty the bag and put what I give you instead," she promptly ordered, handing her twin each folded piece of clothing.

"And you," she began, turning to face James. The boy let out a startled yelp, but she paid him no mind. "Take your trunk downstairs."

"_Aye, aye_, Madam." With that, he hurriedly left the room, and she scoffed in disbelief, refusing to believe she had _frightened_ him.

She felt her brother's gaze on her, even though she continued to fold his jackets. This would have been much easier if she remembered how Kreacher did it with magic.

"Ready for Grimmauld?" he finally asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she grumbled with a frown. "What about you?"

Sirius gave her a small shrug, "_Dunno_. I have a bad feeling, but it might just be the nerves."

She hadn't considered the possibility of Sirius sharing the same sense of foreboding. What if the twin also had the same nightmares? Perhaps, the twin bond was much more complicated than she thought. She might need to mention it later, without giving away too much.

Hermione still eyed him with a look of surprise. "You too?"

At his nod, her walls began to crumble, and she finally admitted, "I don't want to go."

It came out in a small voice, barely a whisper, but she still hated herself for looking and sounding so vulnerable. Then again, she _was_ just eleven years old and no previous experience could ever get her to disregard the feeling of fear completely.

As if reading her emotions, his features softened, and he wrapped her into a tight hug. She was sure he knew of how much his hugs helped her, every single time.

They were the kind that could squeeze the life out of you, considering how tight they were. Despite that, they were what gave her the most comfort in the entire world. A hug from Sirius Black meant home and safety, and that was something the Black house could never offer her.

He pulled away and gave her a sad smile. "We'll be together," he managed in a firm voice. For the moment, she smiled weakly and let him be the big brother he'd always thought himself to be.

A voice from the doorway broke the silence. "Not to ruin this tear-jerking moment, but the train is about to leave," James called hesitantly.

Hermione turned around and chuckled at the bespectacled boy. "And how did Mr. Potter come to know such a _big_ word?"

He stuck his tongue out at her and glanced at Sirius. "How do you deal with her?"

The twin mocked a fatigued sigh. "It takes hard work, but you get used to it, mate."

A punch on their arms later, they truly learned as to why they _must_ deal with her.

* * *

Once she entered the train, she felt Lily throw herself at her and wish Hermione a Happy Yule. When Lily finally pulled back and asked her if she wanted to join them, Hermione decided it was better if she refused.

The two girls weren't even close and if the sour look on Snape's face was anything to go by, the twin clearly wasn't welcome.

Instead, she found and entered the compartment where the boys were sitting. Closest to the door on the left side was Peter. He looked like he'll be asleep anytime now. Beside him, Remus was reading a book, a hand on his cheek to hold his tired face up.

On the right side, James and Sirius were talking animatedly on what could only be Quidditch.

James looked up just in time to notice her, and he yelled, "Hermione, come here!"

She rolled her eyes and sat next to Remus, so that she could look out the window, instead. The previously vibrant, green grounds of Scotland were now covered by layers of white. The grey sky definitely threatened another snow shower soon.

Hermione sighed at the melancholic sight and the urge to take a nap, but the risk of giving away her nightmares in front of everyone stopped her from sleeping.

Instead, she began to wonder how she will manage at home. She could ask her father or even better, silence the room by herself. While underage magic wasn't allowed, the Ministry wouldn't be able to detect who cast the spell in a magical house, anyways.

With that, her thoughts drifted off to Orion Black. He was somehow better than Walburga. While the woman was loud and always sticking her nose in other people's business, Orion Black was relatively quiet.

Despite that, he was still arrogant, proud, and snobbish. He left the punishments to his wife, but the silent, disappointed glares Hermione was sent succeeded in making her feel much more remorseful.

It reminded her of the day he'd abruptly stopped looking at her with warm eyes.

If it weren't for the occasional warm conversations and embraces she received from him, she would've thought he now hated her. Perhaps, he _did_ hate her, and she'd been wrong this whole time.

.

By the time the train stopped, she realized that going home meant using the Black library. At the very least, the thought allowed her to feel somewhat excited.

And at the fresh discovery, she gathered enough energy to wake Sirius up and walk out together with the rest of their friends. After greeting everyone farewell, the twins looked around to catch a glimpse of a familiar face.

They caught sight of their uncle, Cygnus Black. The tall, robust man met their gaze briefly, as he gathered Narcissa away from them and apparated right then and there, without a second look.

She looked up at Sirius, who burst out through gritted teeth, "Where the bloody hell are they?"

"Seems like getting sorted in Gryffindor has led you to forget how I taught you to talk."

She turned around to face her father, whose face failed to give away any kind of emotion. She found that trait rather frustrating, often wondering what he might be actually thinking.

On the other hand, their mother was openly glaring at them, feeling no shame at the scowl she sent them after seeing them in _four_ months. Once they walked towards the twins, their parents silently grabbed their arms and apparated them to Grimmauld.

The silence was a torture on itself as their feet landed on the rich pavement of the house. Hermione looked around to see many portraits glowering at the two, before her eyes set on Regulus and she jumped straight into his embrace. She let out a soft sigh, feeling relieved to see him after so long.

After she let go and Sirius slung an arm around their little brother's shoulders, Hermione spoke up with a wide smile, "I missed you."

Regulus gave her a small, tentative grin and opened his mouth to speak, just before their mother stopped him. "Would you care to tell us how you failed to be Sorted in Slytherin? Both of you?" she bellowed, the disappointment in her tone leaking in sharp and clear.

Sirius scowled at her menacingly. "Do we look like the Sorting Hat to you?"

Hermione gave him a light smack on the arm and sighed wearily. "We are not sure, Mother," eyeing her father's inexpressive face, she added, "and Father."

Walburga looked at her in disgust, recoiling at the mere sight of her. "Do I need to remind you what happens, if I were to take you out of Hogwarts?"

While Hermione had learned that her mother couldn't force her to leave school until she turned seventeen, she very well knew this could also mean getting her betrothed while she was still at Hogwarts. "Of course, Mother," she replied stiffly.

"Dinner will be ready at the usual time. I expect you to not be late," their father reminded them, and without waiting for a response, the couple left the room.

Sirius began to drag Regulus upstairs, his grey eyes twinkling as he looked back at the younger Black. "Come on, Reggie. We have so much to tell you."

* * *

The trio spent the evening in Regulus' room. They talked about anything they could think of. They discussed the Sorting process, but the topic was quickly avoided after Sirius and Hermione talked about the pranks, classes, teachers, and their friends.

"Do you have the picture we sent you?" asked Hermione, her head tilted curiously.

Sirius ruffled their brother's jet-black hair and added, "By the way, don't worry if you lose it. I have a copy, too."

"Anyways," she continued with a grin, "The boys in the picture are the ones we talked about. I can't wait for you to meet them! They'll love you immediately."

She spotted the excitement that grew on Regulus's face, when Sirius talked about their adventures at Hogwarts, and she realized how much more trouble they were going to get into, once he joined them.

Hermione didn't mind that, though. She preferred being reprimanded at Hogwarts, than leaving the boy behind at Grimmauld.

"So how was Wally with you?" Sirius teased.

"Don't call Mother that!" Regulus quickly jumped in the woman's defense, though he calmed down to answer, "She mostly introduced me to the youngest Lestrange brother."

When she asked him how it had gone, she could tell he wasn't telling them something. Hermione found it hard to believe that the boy Walburga approved of would only _fly_ with Regulus.

Pushing her suspicion in the back of her mind, she let him talk, her heart feeling at ease after spending hours with the two people she loved the most.

.

Once Kreacher came to collect them for dinner, she forced herself not to worry for once and act like the kid she was; one that hadn't been at home with her whole family in four months.

The sound of the old grandfather clock echoed around the table. After minutes of eating in silence, and their father occasionally mentioning new brooms or stuff he had gotten for the boys, Orion finally looked at her.

"There are new books in the library."

With that, he left the room, and a beaming smile stayed on her face for the rest of the evening.


	10. Life Debt

**December, 1971.**

On Christmas Eve, Hermione found herself deep in thought in the Black library. She'd been spending most of her time there, especially when her brothers were doing their own thing.

She eyeballed the shelves; in search of a book she hadn't already read. Most writings considered nightmares to be the fruit of a trauma an individual may have experienced.

And while Hermione had a fair amount of horrifying experiences in her childhood, she failed to see how and why the visions would start right at the start of her Hogwarts year. If anything, she should've been having _better_ dreams, considering the great time she was having there.

Preoccupied by her musings, she was startled when her father strolled in and sat by his personal desk. Her brows arched high on her forehead in surprise, but she thought better than to question him. He'd always acted rather odd, not necessarily in a bad way. It was as though he almost still cared for her as he did for his heirs.

She wondered if he'd noticed her newly found academic interest, her grip on the book automatically tightening. Refusing to give away anything, she straightened and sat on the chair beside his. "Father," she greeted curtly.

He surprised her when the corners of his mouth slightly lifted. He glanced at her briefly and said, "Hermione, I was hoping you would join me in Diagon Alley today."

She was left utterly puzzled, before she could choke out a response, "Father?" Not receiving more than a stare, she decided to reply, "I would love to."

"Perfect." He stood up and proceeded to walk out of the library. "I expect you to be downstairs in five minutes," he told her without turning back once.

She nodded even though he was already gone, still frozen in her seat. Hermione couldn't help but think she'd made a mistake in accepting a potential trick.

Maybe if she stood now, Sirius would come from behind, mocking her for believing him through his Polyjuice attire. Shaking her head in an attempt to clear out such accusations, she decided to let whatever was happening simply happen.

Hermione made her way to her room, grabbing a warm cloak and gloves. The snow had been falling for more than a couple of days now. It certainly added to the festive spirit, but it was also infuriatingly freezing.

Once she made sure she'll be warm enough, she walked down the stairs and entered the parlour, where her father stood waiting by the fireplace.

He glanced at her and motioned for her to grab the Floo powder. Both father and daughter yelled out their destination, leaving the room in swirls of green.

She didn't have time to check her surroundings, currently too busy making sure she wasn't choking on dirty soot. No matter how many times she'd done it, she always came out of the Floo powdered in dust, stumbling and coughing at the top of her lungs.

"You will get used to it," her father had once told her to soothe her worries.

Needless to say, once she'd used the Network enough times, he'd clearly decided that perhaps she just won't. She smirked inwardly at the thought of Orion Black being proven wrong.

Certain things would never cease to amaze her.

She dusted off her cloak, hearing Walburga in her head as she ordered for Hermione to look like a proper lady.

Once she decided that this was the most presentable look she'd ever look, she noticed her father waiting for her and stepped forward. Hermione walked beside him, looking around the stores. She saw families shopping for gifts together and felt her heart tighten painfully, as she thought of how her mother had gone shopping with the boys yesterday, but without her.

Remembering how her mother had said that Hermione wasn't deserving to step out, she glanced towards the older man and muttered, "Why am I here?"

"Christmas shopping," he answered, and his tone ordered her not to question him further. They stepped in multiple shops, where Hermione bought everything she'd already planned to, and she briefly thought of how to get something for her father without him noticing.

Keeping a straight face that could rival her father's, she said, "I would like to go somewhere by myself."

He raised a brow at that, and she suspected he wouldn't agree, but was proven wrong when he nodded. "I will be waiting in front of Potage's Cauldron Shop."

Hermione looked around, in hopes of seeing something that could be gifted to the wizard. It was certainly difficult, if she were to consider how the man got what he wanted instantly. She doubted there was anything he wanted that he didn't already have.

She passed by Magical Menagerie and snorted at the image of her father cuddling a kitten. Shaking her head in amusement, she decided to look at the stalls, instead.

There were different kinds of sweets and golden jewels catching many people's attention. Her gaze, still aiming to find the perfect trinket, stopped at a chain, holding emerald powder in a tiny, see-through sphere.

She looked up at the gray-haired woman that stood behind the stall. "What is this, ma'am?" she questioned in a polite tone.

"It is an amulet that suppresses anger and can be seen as a little Calming Draught alternative," explained the older witch, sending her an affectionate smile.

Thinking back to the widely known Black temper, she nodded eagerly. "I will get that one, please."

After paying for the gift and putting it away, she wondered to herself if he would even like it.

Her father was a Wizengamot member and looking back at the many times he'd come back, barely holding in his anger at anyone who asked him what had happened at work, she could only wonder what went on in the courtroom.

Hermione knew of important verdicts and laws being made there, and she once used to imagine what _she_ would do if she had such an opportunity.

She later stopped dreaming of such a future, for obvious reasons.

Not wanting to dampen her mood, she began her journey back to where her father was probably waiting for her. The snow was beginning to fall in a much harder motion and her sight blurred, causing her to slam into a broad force.

Two hands caught her arms and a familiar voice made her gaze shoot up from the ground. "_Whoa_. Hello there, Hermione."

"James?" she asked as she squinted her eyes, hoping it would somehow clear her eyesight.

She finally caught his hazel eyes and he grinned. "You know, we should really stop meeting like this."

Hermione rolled her eyes and spotted his parents watching the encounter with amusement. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Potter."

Mrs. Potter smiled at her. "It's good to see you again, Hermione. Our son has told us a lot about you."

"And Sirius," added James quickly, his face flaming red, for which she blamed the freezing cold. Her own nose always turned pink in this ridiculous weather.

Hermione smiled at the woman. "All good things, I hope. If he said something about trouble, he meant Sirius!"

The couple laughed merrily, and the conversation soon shifted to Christmas shopping. As they talked, Hermione understood that the couple was much older than her parents, and from James' lack of siblings, she deduced that they must've had a hard time having a kid.

After reading about Muggle genetics at a library near their house, Hermione had found it was common because of the inbreeding between Pureblood relatives. Of course, she didn't let anyone from her family hear that, fearing the backlash.

Amid their talk, Mr. Potter looked at his watch and she gasped, wide eyed and instantly remembering what she had been doing before she'd run into them.

"I have to go! Merlin, my father is waiting. I'm sorry and I hope you spend the festivals well," she rambled on, her voice trailing off in worry. Giving a quick kiss on the raven-haired boy's cheek, she swiftly walked away and avoided any further collisions.

When she reached her destination, she watched as her father paced around the entrance, a strange look on his face. Hermione ran and hugged him without a second thought, and through a muffled voice against his chest, she said, "I'm sorry I worried you!"

"It's fine," she heard him mutter as he slightly pushed her shoulders away.

Her brows knitted together, and she nodded hesitantly. Had it been a mistake to assume he was worried? She knew she wouldn't be getting an answer, so she reluctantly let go of her uncertainty.

They walked in silence and she looked up at him when he finally spoke again, "Do you ever ponder as to why you weren't named after a constellation like your brothers?"

"Of course," she immediately replied.

He surprised her with an amused look. "I should've known so. You've always been a curious child," he granted gently.

She waited for him to continue, their imprint of their footsteps now forgotten and left behind on the thick snow.

"When you were born, a strange witch came up to me and called us on a life debt we didn't even know we owed. Of course, I was in a hurry because your Mother was about to give birth, so I asked her what she wanted us to do."

"She told me you _must_ be called Hermione, and I had to comply. It was a strange offer, but I had no choice. When I saw you with brown hair instead of black, I thought that perhaps it was truly right to name you Hermione, instead of Cassiopeia."

"Did you—" _No _\- she told herself, frowning up at her father. "_Do_ you think I'm not your daughter?"

She got no response and they reached Grimmauld Place in utter silence.

* * *

Later that night, a knock pulled Hermione out of her thoughts, and she looked at Sirius as he held onto his pillow and waited by the door. She pushed her blanket and moved aside, making room for him on the bed.

"Hi," she murmured quietly, staring up at the ceiling in the dark.

He was fidgeting, she then noticed as she glanced at him, and it didn't take a genius to know that always did that when he was nervous.

"I thought we could wait for Christmas together." At her silent nod, he pouted and walked over to lie down next to her. "You've been quiet all day."

Unable to lie to him, she proceeded to tell him about Diagon Alley, their father's weird behaviour and what he'd said, and they eventually fell into a comfortable silence, each twin thinking about their own thing.

"You're my sister, y'know."

She turned her face to look at him and said, "Not what Father thinks, though."

"Why? Just because your hair is different?" he began with a disbelieving snort. "He's barmy! You told me about Muggle genetics and your hair is as much of a curly mess as Mother's. Our parents would've been awful to you, anyways - they're crazy and so is that strange bint with the life debt."

She went to glare at him for his language but realized that he _was_ right. She knew they didn't have the warmest views on her, and it was more because of her never reaching their expectations. That was why Hermione had relied on her studies, as it had been her last hope and attempt at making them proud.

Now however, Hermione was going to continue to do just that, but more for _herself_ than anyone else.


	11. Malfoy Manor

**December, 1971.**

Hermione woke up to Sirius falling off the bed with a loud thud, and she stifled a laugh as she watched him drag his hand over his face.

"Happy Yule," she finally said after having a good laugh.

He mumbled something she couldn't quite catch, and his eyes comically widened. "It's Yule!"

"Yes, it is," she said calmly, looking at him in amusement. Then, she jumped off the bed and started running. "Race you to Reggie's room!"

She heard his steps thundering behind her as he yelled back, "That's not fair!"

Once Hermione reached the end of the corridor, she pulled the door open and both twins hopped on the youngest's bed. They shook his shoulders and made sure to annoy him enough for him to properly wake up and not just drift back to sleep.

"Wha—going on . . ?" he mumbled incoherently, his voice still gruff due for the blankets his face was buried in.

Hermione grinned. "Yule is—"

"—going on," finished Sirius with an equally amused smile on his face.

Regulus blinked at the twins and mouthed a long _'oh'_. Hermione rolled her eyes at him and tugged at his arm. "Yes, _oh_. Now, get up and let's go open our presents."

Pouting, he forced himself up with a lazy stretch, and they made their way down to the living room. As they sat around the gifts, they waited for their parents to join them, struggling to keep their excitement at bay, but they couldn't be blamed as it _was_ Christmas.

After a few moments in silence, she looked up as she heard footsteps and her gaze met the permanent scowl etched on her mother's face. "What did I tell you about ladies not sitting on the ground?"

"What happened to ladies looking presentable at all times of the day?" Hermione couldn't help but remark, pointing at her mother's hideous bed hair.

Walburga Black opened her mouth to rebuke her, but Sirius stopped her by reminding them why they were gathered there. "Should Father start first?"

Their father strolled towards his chair and _Accio'd_ the usual gifts from his colleagues. Hermione doubted any Pureblood men _actually_ had genuine friendships with anyone.

After that, he grabbed a smaller package, ironically wrapped in bright, red paper. He eyed it suspiciously and vanished everything except for the necklace she had gotten for him. His eyebrows rose for a tiny fraction and he immediately looked at her expectantly.

She stalled giving him any explanation, but decided it was better to give him answers right away. "I got it for you the day we went to Diagon Alley."

He nodded and she was secretly pleased to see him put it on. Slowly but surely, each one of them opened their presents and the children sported beaming smiles on their faces.

Hermione got an enormous amount of Honeydukes chocolate from Remus, which she was sure he will probably steal from her soon after. Her dorm mates and Peter got her Sugar Quills, and James got her a burgundy coloured scarf.

She looked at her brothers as they held onto the Quidditch gloves she'd gotten for them, and she wondered what James thought of the ones she'd sent him. On the other hand, she bought a book for Remus, and sweets for Peter and the girls.

Hermione rolled her eyes at her mother, who was criticizing her presents in a snobbish voice. How she managed to receive gifts from anyone confused her greatly, but she knew better than to voice it out loud. Instead, she decided to finally pay attention to her stomach's grumbles and head to dining room for breakfast.

She greeted Kreacher with a bright smile, who just looked at her as though she was ridiculous and responded with a simple bow. "Mistress."

As the house elf set the table, she wondered why even Kreacher refused to talk to her properly. She had tried befriending him so many times; even attempting to free him after she imagined that perhaps, he was disgusted by the elf heads hung on the wall!

Instead, she merely received pitiful looks, while he played with Regulus. Of course, she didn't mind that, at all. She definitely liked the fact that her little brother had someone to play with. While they always tried to include him, sometimes the twins needed time to themselves.

Watching her younger brother laugh at Sirius and then, halt immediately when their mother sent him a stern look, Hermione speculated about what kind of friends he will be making in his first year. She hated to admit it, but Regulus was definitely their mother's boy and usually did whatever he was told.

Still, Hermione refused to believe he will let Walburga and his future friends change him.

* * *

Hermione glared at the ten books she'd just finished reading, and she labelled them as utterly _useless_. Now, such a statement was something that would cause the girl great disappointment at herself, but she was tired.

She was done with reading about every possibility, but still ending up uncertain on what was happening to her. She mused that at least the nightmares hadn't followed her to Grimmauld Place. She found that utterly ironic, considering the place itself was a nightmare.

Startled at Kreacher's appearance with a _'__pop'_, Hermione offered him a confused look.

"Mistress is asking for you. Mistress is in her study." With that, he apparated away and she grimaced at the thought of what Walburga Black might want from her.

.

Hermione made her way to her mother's study and pulled the door open, her eyes landing on her mother as she sipped her tea, a scowl on her face.

She was sure that a Permanent Sticking Charm was behind that look; it was _always_ there.

The older woman didn't bother looking up from her cup as she said, "We have dinner with the Malfoys tonight." With a pause, she continued, "I expect you to interact with the young Heir."

Hermione pushed down a loud scoff. "No."

Her mother looked at her, her gaze sharpening. "And what is that makes you say no to _me?_"

"Malfoy."

"You will _not_ dare to argue with me, and I expect you to talk to him, regardless of what your opinions on the boy may be. Get dressed now."

Hermione was left with no other option, and she begrudgingly walked away from the room without a word. She still refused to talk to the boy that had annoyed her so much in the halls.

* * *

Malfoy Manor was breathtaking. She hated herself for saying that, but it was the genuine truth. The gardens were decorated with flowerbeds of all kind, water fountains all around the patio.

There were even peacocks, for Merlin's sake!

_The place screams of wealthy bigots_, she concluded as she entered the drawing room. Hermione raised her eyes to get a better look of the chandelier hung above, but she wobbled unsteadily as a sharp, dizzying sensation clouded her vision.

Her steps faltered, and she felt a hand on her shoulders trying to steady her. "Are you alright?" asked Sirius, concern laced in his voice.

Hermione blinked several times before her sight could clear again, and she gave him a reluctant nod. Gradually, she picked up her pace again and followed everybody else to the dining room.

.

Dinner started shortly after and it was utterly _excruciating_. She could feel Malfoy's stare from his seat right in front of her. She had sat in between her brothers and she was sure Sirius was glowering at the blond from his seat.

Before coming to the Manor, her brother had worriedly pointed out the chance of a betrothal between the two. However, Hermione refused to believe and agree to such a silly proposition.

She felt Abraxas Malfoy's stare burn the side of her face, and she squirmed in her seat. She could only wonder what other questions he had mind. During the entire evening, she'd been replying with well-mannered responses that would make her mother proud, if that kind of emotion was even possible from her.

Nevertheless, it was getting exceedingly impossible to keep up with the behaviour, so when he said he'd heard about her impressive and _startling_ results, she couldn't hide her irritation.

Why _was_ it so surprising?

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Apparently, some Pureblood women do indeed have an intellect," she drawled before she could stop herself.

She felt Sirius tense by her side, and he kicked her foot underneath the massive table. She paused to glance at the shake of her brother's head, but she looked back to stare at the eldest Malfoy in the room.

Hermione knew she'd gone too far, but she didn't think she could leave him dumbstruck. That was yet another accomplishment, and she will be sure to later give herself a pat on the back.

With a small smile that surprised everyone at the table, he remarked, "It seems like some of them possess their cheek, as well."

The corners of her lips twitched. The old man was really keeping up with her. "Yes, well. We can't _all_ depend on straight, stiff backs and gracious manners," she said as a matter-of-factly.

Walburga Black choked on her glass of wine and instantly tried to apologize on behalf of her daughter. Abraxas Malfoy cut her off without a second look at her mother. "Now, I'm even more convinced that interesting debates could happen between my son and yourself, Miss Black."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Your son would most likely leave the room in tears, Mr. Malfoy."

"And why is that?" he asked curiously, his eyes darting to his son, who was openly glowering at her now.

"Who would want to lose numerous debates to a first year?" she questioned in a calm manner, stifling a wry smile.

"My dear, I assure you Lucius is not to be underestimated."

Hermione knew she would regret this later, but she had already gone too far, anyways. She tilted her head curiously. "Then how do you explain me having better scores than he did in _his_ first year?"

At this point, Orion and Walburga had begun to rise from their seats. "Excuse me, but we must take our leave," her father announced in a steely, booming voice.

Abraxas finally looked at him and nodded. "It was a pleasure to have you and," he paused to look at Hermione, adding, "I hope for us to meet again."

_Let's hope not_, muttered Hermione in her head.

Her father shook the older man's hand, before they all walked to the Floo and emerged in their parlour in a strained silence.

Her breath hitched nervously when her mother shouted, "Sirius, Regulus. Go back to your rooms."

"Mother—" Sirius stepped in and looked like he wanted to protest. He was forced to stop as the woman ordered Kreacher to stop either of them from coming out of their rooms before they were told to do so. The house elf grabbed both of them, and Hermione sent Sirius a sad smile, watching as they all left with a _'pop'_.

By now, Hermione knew there was no way for Sirius to lessen the punishment or distract the matriarch. She doubted that would have been possible anyways. The young girl could literally feel her mother's fury wrap around her form, and she shrank even lower, shame growing in her veins as she noticed her father's unbending, grey eyes.

She went to bed hours later, her body trembling in pain and imploring to go back to Hogwarts, even accepting the nightmares that would come back with such a place.


	12. Hogwarts Day

**January, 1972.**

Winter holidays passed with Hermione confined in her room and only coming out during meals. Sirius tried to talk to her a few times, but he eventually gave up when he realized that she wasn't going to let him in. He only hoped that it would soon change when they got back to Hogwarts.

A few days after Christmas, he received a handful of letters from his friends, and they were all asking him where his sister was and why she wasn't replying to their owls. He grabbed the letter from James and read it carefully.

_To Sirius B._

_Hey mate! I got your gift and it was wicked. I can't wait for us to try out for Quidditch next year. Just imagine - two Marauders winning the House Cup for six years straight! Think I'd make a good chaser?_

_Anyways, I was wondering where that sister of yours was. I wanted to thank her for the gloves she got me. I'm betting five galleons she got the same ones for you. Should I feel flattered that I get to have something identical to you, other than your twin?_

_I was hoping to see during the break, but I guess I'll have to see you on the train instead._

_Cheers._

_James P._

Sirius pondered on what he should say. He couldn't tell him what had happened through a letter, and he wasn't sure Hermione would be comfortable with him telling their friends behind her back. Just the thought of the past events made his stomach churn painfully, and he felt himself recoil in guilt over doing absolutely nothing to help her.

He stood in front of her door and thought of an excuse that could make her come out. He couldn't instantly confront her, and he had to think of some distractions first. Realizing that they will be leaving tomorrow, and his stuff still needed to be packed, a grin graced his face at the laziness his sister hated, but secretly adored.

His knuckles rapped against the wood gently. "Hello? Hermione, are you awake?"

He was met with silence and as he turned to walk back to his room in defeat, his ears caught her loud sigh. The door opened and Sirius quickly whirled around, throwing his arms around her as soon as he saw a glimpse of her face.

He found comfort in his twin's messy curls that he'd missed in the past days, as though a part of him had been yanked away from him. If he had the power, Sirius would make sure to never let go of her and keep her stuck in his arms.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him in a hoarse voice.

Sirius knew she had only spoken to Kreacher over the past few days, but he was sure she would feel much better as they talked, and their bond strengthened.

"I wanted to see you." Hesitating, he sheepishly added, "And I was wondering if you wanted to pack with me."

She sent him an exasperated look, and Sirius smiled even wider when she agreed. "Alright, little puppy. Let's go."

* * *

Packing his clothes and toiletries, they fell into a series of conversations regarding THE classes and people at Hogwarts. He had been so caught up in his own pranks at school that he hadn't paid attention to her and how _she_ had settled in. He vowed to look over her with much more attention and care.

However, eventually deciding that he couldn't avoid the guilt any longer, he swallowed the lump in his throat and glanced at her. "I'm so—I wish I could do something whenever they do this to you. How can I still call myself your brother?" he rambled and looked away when he found himself choking on his words.

Godric, was he really so useless?

She shook her head adamantly, and he looked back at her in confusion.

"Do you really think I would blame you for something you have no control over?" As he tried to interrupt her, she put her hand up and continued, "I don't think of you as useless, Sirius. We all go through this, and it's not just me. Someday, it is you or Regulus, and if I'm being honest? I would gladly volunteer myself for that, but that's another conversation for another day."

"You still get hurt the most," he said through a clenched teeth, fury over his parents lashing and churning in his stomach.

"And I am at fault for that," she told him, wearing a tight expression. "I talk back, I get punished. Really, as long as I don't get shipped off to a fifty years old wizard, I'm fine," she said as she gave him a light, strained laugh.

Sirius didn't think of it as amusing. He wanted to scream that she didn't deserve any of this and that nothing about it was even remotely funny, but he treasured the moment too much to ruin it. Hence, Sirius decided to be the gentle brother she deserved to have. He jumped on his bed and moved to make space for her under the blankets. She laughed and the sound of her joy was enough to calm the rage building in his body and lull both of them to sleep.

* * *

Hermione peeled her bleary eyes open after several tries and blinked at the piercing light coming from the curtains. She snorted inwardly at the thought of sunshine entering such Dark surfaces, but shook her head immediately after, ridding herself of such mentality on her first day back to Hogwarts. She shook Sirius' shoulders lightly and he peered at her through heavy lids, half of his face still covered in blankets.

She allowed a small smile at her lips. "Get up, sleepyhead. It's Hogwarts Day."

The corners of his lips tugged into a grin. "Pray to Merlin that everyday is Hogwarts Day."

"Wonder what students who hate school would say to you."

"Yes well, they can shove their opinions up their—"

"Sirius!"

"—Right. Sorry."

"No, you're not."

He shrugged and grabbed her hand, getting up and dragging her towards the door. "You go get ready. I'll wake Reggie up."

Not waiting for her answer, he walked away. Rolling her eyes at his energy but sharing the same enthusiasm on going back, she decided to follow his instructions.

.

Hermione walked downstairs with her brothers, noticing her parents as they lingered by the doorway. Dragging her feet, she detested to get any closer to them, noticing them finally acknowledging their children's presence.

Walburga had a scowl on her face and Orion's mouth was set in a firm line as usual. Hermione couldn't hold back the roll of her eyes but luckily for her, her mother was too busy going on a rant about something to note it.

"—And I expect you to avoid the disgraceful presence of Mudbloods and Half-Bloods that are in your awful House. Had you been in Slytherin, you would have been around proper wizards and witches. You're stuck there so get moving now!"

With that, she seized their hands and they apparated to King's Cross. Before she could even turn back and talk to Regulus, her mother disapparated away with him. Refusing to release the tears jetting to her eyes, she held onto Sirius' hand and walked towards the train.

"Would've taught him some pranks, but he's a mama's boy anyways," he grunted, grabbing both of their trunks and pulling them up inside.

"Stop it. It's not his fault he grew up this way," she insisted, frowning up at her brother.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course. It must be hard being _coddled_, every time your older siblings are a disappointment."

She didn't bother responding to the boy and walked in the compartment where James, Remus and Peter were already seated. She flung her arms around Remus and buried her face in his neck. "I've missed you!"

When she pulled back and she saw him wince slightly, she gave him a questioning glance.

"You wouldn't have missed me so much had you replied to my letters," he teased, pointedly ignoring her look as they both sat back down together.

"You know how busy it gets . . ."

Hermione could feel his concerned stare and she avoided his gaze. He'd obviously noticed her uneasiness as over the past months, the two had grown to become as close as any best friend would be; both able to read the other almost perfectly. She cursed the boy for being so shrewd.

She was pulled into two other bone crushing hugs, and she looked back to see Peter and James, the latter sporting a childish pout on his face. "Really, Hermione. I can tell you've chosen books over us."

Hermione leaned closer to pat his cheek, a grin on her face. "Don't worry. I will think of a way to make it up to you."

"I won't let you forget," he warned, and she gave him a small smile.

She was glad she was going home.


	13. Thank Merlin

**January, 1972.**

Once everyone returned to Hogwarts, they fell back into their usual routine. The Marauders—and Hermione—allowed the halls to be filled with amusing tricks and pranks. During one of their usual meetings in the library, Lily Evans began to state her disgust over the group immediately, and while Hermione felt bad for her dormmate, she got rid of the guilt immediately once the redhead started calling her brother names.

"Listen," Hermione started, her hands clenched tight as she stood up. "I am very fond of you. I would even call you my friend if you would allow me, but you _don't_ just get away with insulting Sirius. Especially, not when your friend is a berk, as well!"

The girl gaped at her. Why she was so surprised over her defending her twin, Hermione did not know. Realizing it will probably be her last study session with the pair, she gathered her belongings. "Thank you for studying with me, but it's best if you proceed without me."

"Not like I'm wanted here anyways," she added hotly, looking over at the glower a certain, sour Slytherin sent her. Without waiting for a response from the cranky boy and angry redhead, she left the library.

* * *

Hermione entered the Common Room, and every set of eye turned to look at the sight of her hair coming to life, sparks crackling like fire. They sounded so much like Bellatrix's laugh that she immediately calmed down and shuddered at the thought. She made her way to the couch, where the boys were lounging lazily, and she settled her head on Sirius's shoulder.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" asked a gentle voice. Her gaze met Remus's concerned green eyes r, and she grunted with a shake of her head.

"Lily Evans—" James' head shot up so fast that his glasses fell down to his chin, "and her friend kept talking about you guys and she even said some stuff about Sirius, so you know what might've happened."

She wouldn't be surprised if everyone didn't know already how protective the twins were of each other, especially Hermione. She was proud to say she was unbearably loyal.

Sirius gave her a proud look and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Good. I don't know why you hung out with Snivellus, anyways."

She shrugged his hold off of her and complained, "I told you to stop calling him that! But yes, while he's a git to me, I now don't have a study partner, anymore."

The twin merely rolled his eyes at her and ruffled her curls with a fond grin. "Luckily, we have another bookworm here to help you," he suggested, nodding his head towards their friend.

Remus shrugged and cracked a bright smile. "Yes, even though it seems like you don't even need one," he teased, and she rolled her eyes, sending her a look that contained no malice.

Taking the chance to stare at her best friend, Hermione pondered over his secret and how often he'd gone missing with the same excuse. How was it that his mother or aunt got sick once a month and required his presence for only _one_ day, _every time?_

As she watched him play Wizarding Chess with Peter, she recalled how pale he'd looked a few days prior to him leaving to see his mother again. Perhaps he shared the same illness? She discarded the idea immediately once she thought back to the illnesses she'd read about previously. None of them mentioned a thirty days pattern.

It couldn't be a normal fever, nor could it be Dragon Pox. Maybe . . . _no!_ The scars on his face sought her attention at an instant, and her mind began to chant something incoherent in a sharp tone, and she gasped, not bothering to notice how loud she was.

She slammed her eyes shut as visions started to form behind her lids. _A full moon, the Whomping Willow, a howling wolf, two teens huddled behind a bush._ A loud groan brought her back to reality, and she blinked rapidly to see Sirius's face in front of her, her brother trying to loosen her grip on his arm.

"You're hurting me," he muttered with a let go immediately, holding back a sob caused by the throbbing pain in her head.

"Hermione," he called, and she looked back at her twin, "Are you feeling alright?"

"I just have a headache," she breathed out, wishing terribly that were only the case, "Nothing serious."

Her brother clearly didn't look convinced as he didn't even try making the infamous Sirius pun. Instead, he studied her face and narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure? I could take you to the Hospital Wing."

She shook her head hastily and whispered so that only he would hear, "No! You know why I can't go there." Madam Pomfrey would be able to detect the Dark magic still lingering on her body and her family would definitely ridicule her and do more, for not keeping everything that goes on at home hidden.

She shook her head again, frustrated at everything happening to her at once. She had even forgotten that a few minutes ago, she'd discovered that her best friend was a bloody _werewolf_.

Hermione looked back at the sandy-haired boy, finding him staring right back at her with an odd look on his face. With a deep frown, she wondered why he hadn't told her or any of them, but soon realized that it was probably for the best.

If, _Merlin forbid_, her family were to find out their children shared classes with a werewolf, they would raise hell, and she didn't want him to live in fear and lose the opportunity to stay at Hogwarts. So, she decided to keep her discovery to herself and help him as much as she could.

* * *

Over the next months, Hermione visited the Hospital Wing every morning after the full moon, and she left a chocolate bar for her best friend. The first time, he'd paled, and his eyes had widened, him gripping his covers tightly as she avoided his questioning look.

Instead, she'd given him a sweet smile and said, "Chocolate helps."

Immediately after, he'd tried to distance himself, possibly in fear of her outing him. Still, she followed him around and an exasperated Remus soon came to realize that she did not care about his truth, at all. She even went as far as reading books on werewolves, and their bond quickly deepened, them on each other's knowledge once exams approached.

He often joked about not being able to get rid of her, which Sirius agreed to profusely, leading him to get smacked on the back of his head by Hermione, every time.

The rest of the boys weren't as concerned about the exams and only studied whenever Hermione cornered them and made them get to work. She did receive many _thanks_ from them once the term ended, and she fondly waved them off. They were idiots, but she had grown quite fond of them.

On the other hand, after she stopped coming to her previous study sessions, Hermione didn't bother talking to Lily as the redhead avidly avoided her. Though, a ferociously loyal Marlene McKinnon quickly gained a special spot in her heart.

* * *

**June, 1972.**

Letting Marlene drag her to an empty compartment, she almost missed the glare she was sent by Lucius Malfoy - someone she'd been steering away from, in fear of him writing to his father, and consequently, to her parents.

"Herms, stop kissing that book and listen to me," called Marlene, a teasing tone bleeding her words.

Hermione mockingly glared at the blonde and huffed. "I told you not to call me that."

Her friend rolled her eyes, amused at her for only paying mind to a part of her sentence. "One more reason as to why I should," she insisted.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

Her brows knitted together. "How do you know that?"

"I just do."

"Well." Hermione gave her a pout and threw her arms up in defeat. "Fine, you win. What were you going to say?"

Marlene gave her a confused look. "Wha—_Oh!_ I was going to ask if you wanted to come over this summer?"

Her friend was a Pureblood, so she doubted her mother would have a problem for once. She gnawed on her bottom lip and hummed in response. "I'll have to ask Mother. I'll send you a letter if I'm allowed."

Receiving a beaming smile, the girls fell into a peaceful silence and just like that, their first year was over.

.

Once the train came to a stop, she bid her friend goodbye and briskly looked inside the other compartments in search for her brother. Before she knew it, she'd slammed against somebody and yelped, "_Ow!_" as she rubbed her forehead to soothe the spot.

"We really have to stop meeting like this."

She opened her eyes to see James grinning at her.

She smiled back and said, "Well, it's all thanks to me that you got the chance to befriend the Black twins."

He put his hand over his heart and dramatically fell to his knees. "Oh, my Lady! How can I ever repay you?"

She laughed, grabbing her wand and aiming it down at him. "By returning my twin back!" she answered loudly.

The corners of his mouth lifted, and he got up, taking out his wand, as well. The door next to them slid open, revealing Sirius as he guffawed at the sight before his eyes. "Ladies and gentlemen, I _know_ I'm loved, but there is no need to fight over me!"

Hermione immediately put her wand away and pushed her brother towards James. "Never mind, you can have him."

Huffing out a laugh, Sirius walked back towards her and gave her a tight hug that left her gasping for breath. "No can do, little sister. You're stuck with me all summer."

She appreciated the idea and sighed against his chest. "Thank Merlin for Sirius Black."

Sirius hummed. "Start by thanking Sirius Black first."


	14. Lonely Moony

**September, 1972.**

When Hermione and Sirius went back to spend their summer at Grimmauld, they had many expectations, but not many ended up being fulfilled. Not the ones regarding Regulus, at least, as their younger brother spent most of his time at his new friends' house.

Sirius had scoffed at the idea of any boy introduced by Walburga being considered a _friend_, and it upset Reg greatly. Even after her twin apologized to him, she couldn't help but feel a tear between them slowly beginning to form.

At the time, she'd been unable to fathom the idea of her little brother ever distancing himself.

_Oh_, how wrong she was.

Despite the numerous times she tried stopping Regulus in the halls to talk to him, he would just straighten his green and silver tie and walk the other way. While Sirius simply refused to look ahead and stabbed his dinner with a fork, the moment Regulus was sorted in Slytherin.

She spoke to her twin many times, trying to explain how he was still their Reg, no matter which House he was in, but Sirius would just give her a bitter laugh and ask, "Then explain why he doesn't talk to you anymore."

She sat there for hours then, in efforts of coming up with a reasonable justification as to why he didn't. She recalled the last moments they had spent together at home and on the train, failing to see any mistakes she may have made.

.

So, three weeks after the term had started, Hermione decided she would try to talk to him one last time.

She didn't bother filling up her plate as Marlene chatted with her, instead glancing towards the entrance, and even getting mistakes for a moment when Sirius walked in. Hermione had thought of so many things to say to her younger brother for the past few weeks, but by the time she watched him sit at his table, her mind blanked and clouded with worry.

Swallowing the ball in her throat that threatened to grow, she squared her shoulders and walked towards the Slytherin table. Ignoring Sirius's loud calls not to go, she halted in front of Regulus.

He glanced at her but said nothing.

After a deep, shuddering breath, she ignored the clench of her heart and asked, "Why are you ignoring us?"

He wordlessly dragged his eyes away.

Hermione took a step forward and frowned. "Reg? Did I do something wrong?"

"My name is Regulus."

She scoffed, bewildered by the first words uttered at her in weeks. "Yes, but I call you _Reg_. Did you forget that already?"

When he simply shrugged, as though he had better things to do than to even _look_ at her, she felt tears prickle her eyes as she demanded:

"What did I do for you to ignore me like that? Is it because we are in different Houses? I already told you it won't change anything. I—it wasn't _supposed_ to change anything!" She grabbed his arm, begging to have her little brother back. "Please, talk to us."

He finally met her gaze and sneered, just like any perfect Slytherin would. Had it really been so long since they'd last talked? "Us? Or do you mean just _you?_ Because as far as I know, Sirius doesn't want anything to do with me, and Hermione, in all honesty, I don't either. Not with him and not with you."

Anger bubbled like acid in her stomach, and she clenched her fists in effort to keep from trembling. "Why now?"

"I didn't know you were friends with Half-Bloods and Mudbloods!" he whispered harshly in disdain. "How could you forget everything our Mother taught you? Why are you _always_ trying to disappoint her?"

When she felt her vocal cords refuse to let out even just a sound, he shook his head, a familiar disappointment crept on his face as he walked away from her.

* * *

After that, Sirius tried his best to cheer her up again, even though she knew he was upset, as well. He would joke about Walburga succeeding with _at least_ one kid, but Hermione could hear the hurt behind his words.

Sirius and Hermione ended up spending their next holidays sneaking out of their homes, and walking around Muggle London, hoping to forget the burdens entrusted upon them. They didn't bother hiding the Muggle clothes and trinkets they bought with the money from their noble vaults. The angrier her mother got, the better Hermione felt. The woman that was supposed to stick her family together separated three siblings, and she could never forgive her for that. No _Crucio_ from her, Bellatrix or any Black could stop her.

Regulus Black became a taboo word for their best friends, and the next three years were spent with her and Sirius appreciating the existence and beauty of _friendship_. They doubted many Purebloods will ever know that it was like.

Sometimes, the twins would sit on the swings at a random park and wonder what having normal parents would've been like. They often discussed James's parents and their hearts begged for someone to save them from having their childhoods locked away.

Other times, they sat in front of the Black Lake with the Marauders as everyone joked about it being named after them.

* * *

**October, 1975.**

Sirius's voice broke through her thoughts. "Do you know what your Animagus is yet?"

Hermione shook her head. The boys had found out about their friend's secret in their third year, and just before last summer, Hermione had figured out a way to help Remus during the full moon.

"No, but I saw my hands as paws," she explained, thinking back to the strange sensation that had taken over her during the meditation.

Her twin surprised her when his face split into a wide grin. "I saw paws, too!"

She laughed loudly and gave him a high five. She craned her head to look back at James when he groaned loudly. "Got a problem, Jamsie?" she teased.

"Stop calling me that, Herms." He glared petulantly and rolled his eyes. "I was just thinking about you two being twins in _everything_, even Animagus forms."

She nodded, feigning understanding, "Of course, it's clear that you want me to be your twin, too."

James's eyes widened and he stood up abruptly, scrambling to say, "No!"

Her brows knitted together in confusion, and she didn't notice Remus as he tried to hold back his laugh into his sleeve.

"I mean—Er - I really don't want to be related to you. No offence," the boy hurried to explain.

"Why not?" she questioned, more curious than offended.

A small tinge of pink surfaced on his cheeks and he muttered, "_Because_."

Sirius gave his friend a sharp, searching look and eventually asked, "How are things going with Evans?"

James tilted his head curiously. "Evans?"

Her brother cocked his brow at his best mate. "Yes, _Evans_, the girl you've been in love with in the last four years."

"Oh. Lily-flower! Ah, _yes_, still running away from me, mate," James hurried to say, ending up with a sullen frown at the reminder of Lily still refusing to accept his marriage proposal.

Everyone snorted at that, while Remus nudged her shoulder. "I heard Marlene say that Diggory was looking for you."

She ducked her head and felt a warm blush creep up her face, a small _'o'_ forming around her lips.

* * *

"Diggory?" James roared, shaking his head continuously. "Fucking Diggory?" He stopped pacing around the dorm and finally turned towards Sirius. "And you're okay with that?!"

Sirius barked out a laugh, shrugging. "James, you say that as if Hermione would let me decide anything for her. Besides, I can't say anything when I've well, err—snogged most of her friends."

"That's—" James spluttered, still unsure as to why he felt so strongly against Diggory as he crossed his arms. "That's not the same."

Peter continued to eat his Chocolate Frog as he asked, "How is it different?"

James scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling quite hesitant with what he'd said. "Diggory doesn't just want to _snog_. He wants to date her and then, _shag_ her," he said loudly, much to Sirius's disgust.

Remus' eyebrows shot up. "You sound like you've given it much thought," he said, eyeing him meticulously.

"Yes, well, just looking out for you. You know, since you like her and all," James whispered to him, giving him an tight smile.

The werewolf rolled his eyes and started, "I don't—"

The door burst open, revealing a very disheveled looking Hermione as four vials levitated in their direction. Panting, she ran to them and advised them to drink it quickly.

James, sensing Remus's confusion at what was happening before his eyes, clapped him on the back with a wide grin. "No longer alone, lonely _Moony_."


	15. Hermione Granger

**October, 1975.**

Hermione rushed towards the boys' dorm. They had to hurry before the full moon could fully appear out in the night sky.

With the echo of her footsteps following her up to the stairs, she opened the door to find Peter and Sirius playing Wizarding Chess, while James lounged on his bed, flipping through a Muggle magazine.

As she cleared her throat and got their attention, James scrambled off the bed and the other two boys looked at her with wide eyes, clearly not expecting her company.

Rolling her eyes, she asked, "Did you guys really forget what we have to do?"

The room's silence followed with '_uh's_' and '_ah's_'.

Waving a dismissive hand at them, realizing they were a lost case and she should've expected that, she reminded them, "We have to transform today, if we want to join Moony during the next full moon!"

Sirius immediately stood up, excitement brimming on his features. "So, what are we waiting for?" Sirius asked.

"We need to find a better place," she answered, a slight frown pulling at her lips.

"Why can't we just do it here?" James questioned, knitting his brows together in confusion.

"Well," she began as she sent him a pointed look, "you saw yourself as a _really_ big animal, and I really don't want to risk having students ask why there's a bear in the dormitory."

They all chuckled at the image of that, and James scratched the top of his head with a small nod, agreeing that it would obviously not be convenient.

"There has to be a place," she mumbled under her breath. "A place where we can do everything safely . . ."

A sharp, throbbing pain kicked inside of her head as she dragged her feet, almost crawling, to Sirius' bed. Her chest rose at the awful pain that filled her mind and she was forced to slam her eyes shut when she couldn't bear the pain anymore.

It was then, that she caught a flash of herself as she stood in front of Barnabas, the Barmy's portrait, walking past it three times. She gasped and her eyes flew open at once, black dots still swarming her sight as she remembered the glimpse of a door appearing.

Hermione didn't realize the state she was in, until she heard Sirius ask, "Hermione, are you alright? Merlin, you're sweating."

After a shuddering breath that did nothing to calm her, she was forced to stand up, instead.

"I think I know where to go."

.

By the time Hermione did everything that was shown to her, each one of the boys had made a comment of Hermione turning as barmy as the portrait.

Ignoring their jabs at her, she watched as a door appeared, and her face split into an awed grin. The boys' jaws went slack as their eyes darted from her and then, back to the wooden door that had appeared out of the blue.

Grabbing the hand closest to her, it being James's, she turned the knob and stepped inside, her gaze sweeping around what seemed to be a large forest with vibrant, green grass that rustled as they walked further into the room.

"What the bloody hell is this?"

"How the fuck did we not know about this?"

"Is this grass _real?_"

She didn't bother speaking up because _really_, she didn't know the answers to their questions herself. Hermione still found herself searching her mind for how it had come to know about it.

What was _it_ even supposed to be?

_It's the Room of Requirement._

She abruptly stopped and glanced around her to check if anyone had addressed her. Had her unconscious just replied to her?

_Yes._

Hermione stood there like an idiot, frozen mid-step, wondering if walking by that portrait had really turned her daft.

_No, you must specifically walk past it three times and think of what you need for the door to appear. Don't blame Barnabas_, the voice chided with a huff of soft laughter.

"Guys, I—" she whispered, uncertain of what was happening to her.

_And like I said this is the Room of Requirement, or also called the Come and Go Room. It is a room that is always equipped for the seeker's needs. You must be very specific with what you ask for and of course, it has limitations. It cannot create food, as that is one of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. Surely, you know about it, don't you?_

James must've noticed her wide-eyed look as he nudged her shoulder with his and sent her a questioning look.

Shaking her head as if to clear the voice from her head, she repeated to them whatever her brain had told her a few seconds ago. They didn't bother asking _how_ she knew about it, as they were more focused on thinking of things they needed. Which, ended up being an insufferable amount of broomsticks and fireworks.

Hermione had to remind Peter more than once that asking for food will _not_ work.

Once they finally settled down and sat on a soft rug that the room had provided them with, they decided to proceed with their transformations. The twins urged Peter and James to go first, watching with wide eyes as a squeaky rat and tall stag appeared in front of them.

Once they shifted back into their human forms, they looked expectantly at the twins, who eyed each other with a curious glint and decided on Sirius going first.

Gone was her brother and in his place stood a giant, shaggy dog, with black fur and the same gray eyes she had grown up looking at.

She guffawed at the coincidence in his name, barely holding onto her stomach before Sirius barked at her. Understanding that he was waiting for her to turn, as well, she closed her eyes and heightened her hearing senses, feeling the magic flow around her form.

As she opened her eyes, Hermione looked down to see her now light brown coloured limbs. Then, she raised her head and saw her best friends grinning at her and glancing to her right.

As she looked in that direction, a dog jumped in front of her and gave her a grin - if that was possible in that canine form. Hermione opened her mouth and heard herself bark, finally realizing her Animagus.

They both transformed back and laughed at James, who was now sulking at having no other deer to keep him company.

* * *

**November, 1975.**

The next month was spent with the Marauders and Hermione dealing with a mighty suspicious Remus. Moony had been taking over whenever they got too close to him, and they suspected it was because the wolf had already recognized his new pack.

Regardless of his wariness, his reaction still ended up being absolutely picture worthy.

They entered the Shrieking Shack through a secret entrance, watching as his expression shifted from confusion into panic. "What are you doing here? Guys, go before I hurt you!" he insisted with wide eyes, walking further away from them.

Deciding on not distressing the werewolf any longer, they shared one last look as they all turned into their Animagus forms. Their best friend stood there, frozen. They watched his reaction carefully when they assumed it had all clicked in his head.

Remus hesitantly stepped towards them, stroking each one of them as his green eyes glittered with unshed tears. "Knowing you, I'm sure you didn't even bother transforming the first time under supervision," he said as he frowned deeply. His knuckles turned white and he demanded, "Do you know how dangerous it could've been?"

She let out a little bark, grabbing the furious wizard's attention and jumped around his legs, her tail wiggling happily between her small limbs.

Remus crouched down and held out his hands to wrap them around her. He stared at her as he picked her up, his lips quirking up when he saw her wiggle in his hold. "Let me guess. The little pup _has_ to be Hermione."

Thankful for the change in his mood, she let out multiple barks in assent and he chuckled at her, looking over and cracking a smile as a bigger black dog came into his view. He let go of Hermione, allowing the pup go back to her brother and hop around.

While Sirius was in the form of a full-grown German Shepard, Hermione was a Golden Retriever puppy. Despite being smaller, she won their chasing game, all thanks to her little but faster steps that became her advantage.

Finally stopping to take a breath, they all nestled around each other, urging out small, pained whimpers at their friend's transformation. Hermione let out a little whine, feeling her heart break at the sight of her best friend as he screamed out in pain.

The full moon spent the rest of the night watching over a werewolf, a stag, a rat and two dogs.

* * *

_"Get out before it's too late!" Sirius yelled._

_The girl shook her head vehemently and stood her ground, gripping her wand tightly. "I'm not leaving you."_

_Before he could urge her to go again, a pale man sauntered in the room. Red eyes met brown and his thin lips morphed into a cruel smirk._

_"Miss Black, what an honour to finally meet you," he jeered. Glancing towards Sirius, he raised his brow._

_"Perhaps we should get rid of him before proceeding with more important matters."_

_Sirius clenched his hand around the doorknob, before he let go and allowed himself to stand in front of his sister. Coughing out a spit of blood, he raised his head to stare at the tall wizard._

_Before he could point his wand at him, the stranger screamed out, "Avada Kedavra!"_

Hermione gasped for breath, grasping her blanket in a tight hold. She held her trembling hands together, allowing herself a moment to calm down.

She shrugged the covers off her body to cool it down, welcoming the room's breeze as it hit the sweat. With shaky hands, she lifted her pillow and grabbed the journal and quill that sat on the top of her bed.

Hermione peered down the curtains to check if anyone was awake. Once she confirmed that the girls were asleep, she muttered, "_Lumos_," and proceeded to write everything that had occurred in her dream, like she'd begun to do after a nightmare.

Her lips quivered at the sight of her brother's body fall loudly to the ground, and she told herself that she couldn't let that happen.

She knew that it was time to finally get help on the matter, and Hermione placed a Silencing Charm on her steps, letting her feet take her to the only person who could give her comfort at the moment.

She made her way up to the boys' dormitory, and once she opened the door as quietly as she could, she whispered, "Sirius?"

She grimaced when she was greeted with just another set of snoring. Hermione sniffed and fidgeted with the cuffs of her sleeves for a couple of seconds, before admitting to herself that perhaps she shouldn't bother him.

Only after the curtains slid open and her brother frowned at her with worry clouding his eyes, did she stop and move to sit by his bed. He grabbed her hand and held it tightly when he saw it trembling. "Is everything alright, Hermione?" he asked carefully.

She bit her lip, tensing slightly. "I need you to come with me, to see the Headmaster."

.

"Miss and Mr. Black, is something the matter at such an early time of the day?" Professor Dumbledore questioned, his blue eyes dancing around the twins as he gave them a small smile.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she sat on one of the chairs alongside Sirius, and she gingerly placed her journal on her lap. Meeting the older wizard's gaze, she responded, "Yes, sir. I believe it's very urgent, if my assumptions are right."

The twinkle behind his glasses only grew at her words. "And what may those be?"

"Well," she began and shifted uneasily on her seat. She glanced over Sirius, watching as he knitted his brows at her in confusion. "Something has been happening to me the moment I stepped foot inside Hogwarts. I began to get headaches and nightmares, where the strangest images would be mashed together."

The Headmaster's eyes sharpened. "You said this started in your first year?"

"Yes. I . . . didn't know what it was, and I tried my best to research on everything I could. Eventually, I stopped and let them happen." She looked down at her hands, shame flooding to her face, and she could feel her brother tense by her side.

Ignoring the panic that came flooding in, she breathed out, "The past four years I've been seeing the same things, and some time after, I decided to draw them in this journal. I thought they would only keep recurring like a loop. Then, this year these . . . _visions_ have started coming to me even while I'm awake. A voice - _err_, also responded to a question of mine a few days ago."

"Then, tonight I had the clearest dream out of all of them and it looked so real." Tears burned her eyes at the memory, and Sirius hurried his hand over hers, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Why did you wait so long to come for help, Miss Black?" Professor Dumbledore asked in a worrisome voice, reading through the pages, and pausing at the images she'd drawn in the past.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled lamely. "I thought it was just Hogwarts's magic messing with my head. They haven't been happening to me at home."

The Headmaster's gaze snapped up and he nodded, deep in thought. "Then you must try again during the holidays."

A sharp intake of breath from Sirius echoed in the room, and Hermione recoiled at the suggestion. "What?" she asked, her eyes widening slightly.

The twins had been spending the Christmas holidays at the Potters' every single time after second year, when Regulus had refused to speak to them. After all, he had been the only reason they had even bothered to go to Grimmauld the year prior.

Of course, they still had to live there during the summer, but they gratefully enjoyed the opportunity given by James for Yule.

Dumbledore stared at her gravely, the glint in his eyes dimming a little. "We must check if things have changed, Miss Black. I'm perfectly aware of your opinion on Divination, but I'm afraid to inform you of the possibility of you being a Seer."

"That's impossible!" she instantly protested, sounding rather indignant, but she couldn't hold back such a reaction at the suggestion – even if it came from a man like Albus Dumbledore.

Sirius kicked her foot with a sharp look. "Hermione," he warned lowly, and she drew a calming breath.

"That wouldn't explain the rest of things that have been happening to me," she continued in a small voice.

The white-bearded wizard rose from his seat, and the two students hesitantly followed him to the corner of his office. "I must apologize for not telling you sooner, Miss Black."

"Sir?" she started, confused by the change in his tone.

He led them to a large, metal basin that rested on the table in front of them. Gesturing at the object, he questioned, "Do you know what this is?"

She nodded and explained, "It's a Pensieve. It allows you to fill it with collected memories and view them from a third-person point of view."

He gave her a proud smile and clasped his hands together. "That's right. Now," he proceeded to grab a vial from the counter and spill the contents inside the basin, "you both must not ask questions until after you finish watching all of it."

Giving him a nod, she touched the silver substance, allowing her body to be dragged inside.

She thought it didn't work, looking around the same office she was in previously, but she caught a younger version of the Headmaster, sitting at his desk with a grave expression as he looked at the brown-haired woman in front of him.

Sirius and Hermione looked towards their own Headmaster, who urged them to step forward to get a better look. Not bothering to study the wizard, whose only difference was the length of his beard, she advanced to stand in front of the witch, instead.

The woman had very few grey strands of curls, mixed with honey-browned ones, and her eyes glinted slightly as she begged the older man to listen. "Sir, it's imperative you let me do this before I have to leave."

"Miss Granger, you must know what happens to those who meddle with time," he chided softly with a shake of his head.

"That's the thing, though! I'm not meddling with it, because the timeline still has not happened. I'm merely from another universe. What's wrong with me wanting to save another one?" she cried out, looking more and more frantic as seconds passed by.

Hermione's one hand flew to her mouth and she held onto Sirius's arm tightly.

"And how can you possibly confirm that this is an alternate one?" Professor Dumbledore questioned. She could swear she saw one of his bushy brows arch pointedly.

The woman placed a piece of the Daily Prophet in front of him, and the twins peered down to get a look at the date displayed: _January 21st_.

Allowing the Headmaster to read the content, she continued, "Sirius never had a twin in _my_ universe. I was dragged here the moment this paper released the news of Walburga going into labour!"

Hermione's eyes widened at the revelation and she read the print on the newspaper to confirm what she'd just heard.

'_Walburga Black in labour. The Wizarding world awaits Sacred Twenty Eight's Black twins.'_

A tense, weighted silence filled the room before Professor Dumbledore sighed, nodding stiffly as he realized something had to be executed. "What must be done now?"

"Well, I'm under the impression that this baby and I are somehow connected, considering your familiar is currently pecking my hair and nodding continuously at everything I'm saying," she answered and sent him a pointed look, allowing everyone in the room and memory to stare at the phoenix that sat between her curls.

"Sir, I've read about this before and according to my assumptions, Hermione Granger will not live in this universe. She cannot live while the Black twin lives. Assuming she's actually a girl, I'd say she's the Hermione of this dimension."

Hermione let out a loud gasp, her wide eyes sweeping around the stranger's face once more. This woman was really supposed to be _her?_ She _did_ look familiar if she were to look past the wrinkles and hair that came with old age.

The Headmaster rubbed his wiry beard in contemplation. "You said you helped defeat the Dark wizard in your dimension. Am I correct?"

When he received a nod, he proposed, "Perhaps, it is best if you lend the memories to the future Miss Black, instead."

"What are you saying, Professor?" Granger asked with a guarded expression.

"What Fawkes is doing here is suggesting you to use his tears. This will allow you to extend your knowledge to the young witch."

Granger gave him a grave look. "Wouldn't that affect her own mind? What if she turns into a Dark witch herself?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Fawkes's tears will only start working if the receiver's intentions are pure, and the memories will not affect her mind. They will be simply, as you put it, visions. If she eventually _does_ turn into a Dark witch, Fawkes can then transfer them to me."

Both twins scoffed at the idea of her turning into anything like You-Know-Who, the current Dark wizard that was becoming known, through the whispers and displays of Pureblood agenda.

"How would you explain a three years old child why she's seeing another kid being _petrified_ by Basilisk?" she retorted incredulously.

Ignoring her jab, his eyes twinkled cheerily. "The visions won't come until it is necessary. I will wait until that time to inform her."

Sighing heavily, the woman thought about it for a moment before she agreed, "Alright, but we must hurry. I only have an hour before this wretched dimension travel ball apparates me back."

"Indeed, you're right. I was going to suggest, and I hope you don't mind, that we have the girl be called Hermione. With all the Fates being disrupted on this axis, some order that was planned must be as it follows."

"Are you saying the world needs a witch called _Hermione?_ And how are you going to convince Walburga Black to break tradition for a name like mine? She would call me a Mudblood before I even look at her in the eye," she said, raising a brow in disbelief.

Professor Dumbledore sent Granger a small, amused smile. "Am I right to assume you saved young Mr. Black's life in your dimension?"

The woman blinked at him in surprise, then nodded.

"Then, all you'll need to do is call on Orion Black's life debt that he owes you for saving his Heir."

The witch gaped at him in disbelief. "With all due respect, Professor. I would like to point out that I'm in an alternate dimension, where I have yet to save Sirius from any Dementors."

Hermione's hold on her brother's hand tightened painfully.

"Miss Granger, life debts are a peculiar matter. Time is nonessential and no restrictions to universal panels are present."

She muttered something under her breath, which Hermione couldn't hear, and gave him a tense nod.

Hermione barely had any time to process anything before her sight distorted, and her brows knitted in confusion at the new surroundings. It appeared to be a small corridor, surrounded by dull, white walls.

She continued to glance around, initially confused over the setting, before she saw a Healer and read out loud, "St. Mungo's."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Granger walk away to the right, and pressing her lips into a thin line, Hermione followed the woman.

After he was given the proper instructions and received a warm smile, Fawkes flew out of a nearby window with a soft coo.

Granger then caught the number on the doors and finally stopped in front of room number eight. She looked around, seemingly looking for something specific, and finally stopped to meet the gaze of Orion Black.

She approached him with a confident attitude. Hermione thought that she almost resembled the way her mother walked around in public, and she wondered if that witch would like to know of that assessment.

_No, I would not._

Grimacing as the voice rang in her head, she attempted to clear her mind and stepped closer to the two figures to catch the conversation between the two.

Her father looked outraged. "What life debt are you talking about?" he bellowed, his face no longer deeming impassive, like the one she'd lately found herself looking at. The usually composed wizard grew disturbed, strands of his gelled hair managing to stick out.

Hermione recognized the interaction between Granger and her father to be the same as the one Orion had recalled to her in Diagon Alley. Sirius must've realized that as well, because they sent each other a knowing look.

She frowned at the witch, now knowing she was the reason why she had not been named Cassiopeia like her parents had planned. Was it possible that, had she been named another name, they would have treated her better?

She shook her head, not believing it at all. Sirius was named after Canis Major and yet, they gave him as much pain as they gave her. _Why have twins if they can't love them?_ she thought bitterly.

It was then that they stumbled out of the Pensieve, and walked back to where they'd sat previously.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and sent her a soft look. "I must apologize, Miss Black. I should have informed you much sooner."

"That would've been helpful," she muttered tiredly, thinking back to how she had just been played around like a puppet with the wires being in the Headmaster's control.

If he heard her, he did not show it. Instead, he flicked his gaze at Sirius and said, "You look like you want to say something, Mr. Black."

Sirius raked his hands through his hair, messing his bed hair even more. "Is my sister in danger?" he demanded, his voice laced in worry.

Dumbledore looked at the two with a careful glint in his eyes. "I believe her being a Seer complicates things further." At the two confused faces, he explained, "If anyone were to know about your sister being a Seer, they could take advantage of such a fact. Especially, Voldemort."

The young students flinched at the mention of his name, but straightened up as soon as he told them, "_Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself._"

She admitted he was right, giving him a weary nod before her curiosity took over. "Why did my Seer abilities start now? Even the visions and voice, which by the way, I'm still confused over what they are. Uhm . . . _Granger_ didn't mention it."

"It seems as though Fawkes's tears allowed your unconscious to merge with her own and worry not; she is not stuck in your mind. She has safely gone back to her own dimension. As to why now, the visions and voice appeared when you thought of something that was deeply connected to the witch. That explains your dreams' connection with Hogwarts and why the voice finally decided to speak to you," he finished with a knowing look through his half-moon glasses.

She wrangled her hands worriedly, wondering if he knew about the Room of Requirement, and nodded to herself. Of course, he did. That was Albus Dumbledore she was talking about.

Sirius spoke up once more, frustration laced in his words as he asked, "Should we tell anyone about this?"

Dumbledore shook his head at once. "You must not let this information get in dangerous hands. It is best if you keep it to yourselves and not even the rest of your family. Now, it is best if you go to sleep and come to me later, if you have any more questions."

He paused, looking over at the journal that she'd brought earlier. "And allow me to look through this for any hints your unconscious may have prearranged."

The twins eventually made their way back to the Gryffindor Tower with heavy hearts, a strong need to go back to when such revelations hadn't yet occurred.


	16. Cub

**November, 1975.**

"I'm not allowing you to call me fucking _Cub._"

"Cub."

"No. It's _Padfoot._"

"What are you two talking about?" Hermione asked.

It was the following morning and she hadn't bothered to do anything with her hair, as she could care less about such a small aspect . . . considering the other mess in her life.

She had silently approached the Gryffindor table, sitting down and filling her plate, while the boys had kept to bickering amongst each other. Still waiting for an answer, she looked at Sirius, who sported a matching set of dark circles under his eyes.

Her twin gave her a salute and then rolled his eyes at the reminder of the conversation they were previously having. "We were thinking of names to give our forms, and _Prongs_ here voted for Padfoot, Cub and Wormtail. Now, Peter is obviously Wormtail," he replied, ignoring Peter's grumbles under his breath.

"Okay, so I'm Cub. What's wrong with Cub?" she mumbled, tilting her head curiously.

The boys gave her adoring, soft smiles, and Sirius nodded enthusiastically, sending James a pointed look. "See! _She's_ Cub and I'm Padfoot."

The raven-haired boy raised his arms in surrender. "Alright, alright," he relented morosely. "Oh, we'll have to add these names to the map," he then added in a hushed tone, glancing around to see if anyone was listening to them.

Hermione was pretty sure that to others, they just seemed like idiots, talking about idiotic things.

"Sweet Merlin, imagine the Marauders' Map announcing Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Cub." Remus gave them a dreamy, awed smile and clapped his hands cheerfully.

Hermione arched her brow at him, and he chuckled. "Messrs. and Madame," he corrected with a wry smile on his face, which she returned easily.

"Cheeky boy," she said with a pout on her lips.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and her head snapped back to find Amos Diggory as he smiled down at her.

She remembered multiple girls talking about him, and Hermione had to admit he was very handsome. Her eyes flicked over his chestnut hair, part of its strands falling on his forehead as she looked at the other features on his face. Her gaze lingered on his lips for an alarming amount of time, appreciating the perfect shade of pink that rested on them.

Realizing she'd been gawking at him the entire time, she got to her feet and allowed a nervous smile to seep through her lips. "Hey!"

The boy ran his hand through his hair and sweetly smiled. "'Ello, Hermione. You look very pretty today."

She ducked her head, feeling her face burn up at the compliment, and she didn't notice the glower burning in the back of her head. "Thank you," she said lightly.

They began to converse about their shared classes and Hermione was impressed to know he was taking almost the same number of _O.W.L.s_. Diggory's voice broke through her thoughts and her gaze met his own, noticing the determined look it held.

"Would you want to come to Hogsmeade with me?" he murmured, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced down at her lips.

Not allowing him to see the flicker of surprise on her face, she attempted to cool her nerves. "I would love to," she replied, instead.

Diggory's expression brightened and he gave her charming smile. She watched as he walked back to his friends, and she eventually sat back down, sipping on her coffee with a wide grin plastered on her face.

Sirius scoffed loudly. "Bloke _seriously_ asked you out in front of me. Does he have a death wish?"

"No, _you're_ Sirius," she joked, sticking her tongue out at him.

James cleared his throat and pointed his finger at the twins in hopes of—_for some strange reason_—changing the subject. "Anyways, what's wrong with you two?"

Sirius shared a look with her before he clapped James on back and grinned, though the glaring worry from last night could still be seen in his eyes.

"Nothing at all, mate. We just had to deal with something with Dumbledore last night. Our lovely, pretty boy, don't you worry," he teased with a flutter of his lashes.

"I heard that's Diggory's title, according to the girls in our year," Peter butted in and Remus snickered loudly at the glare James sent the boy.

Rolling her eyes at the boys' antics, oblivious to their peculiar behaviour, she asked, "So, what are we doing today?"

With a mischievous glint in their eyes, they proceeded to explain their idea of placing a Sticking Charm in front of the Slytherin dungeons' entrance. They laughed at the idea of the whole House being stuck all day.

Hermione's face hardened, and she shook her head, cutting them off. "Why don't we do all corridors, instead of just targeting Slytherins? You know, like we've discussed numerous times?"

Sirius groaned loudly. "Hermione, you need to let it go. Snakes are snakes, and they need to be put in place."

"No!" she protested hotly, her brows knitted together in frustration at the argument they'd already had numerous times. "Not all of them are. The first years - that are bloody _eleven_ years old - are not '_snakes_'. You are the one who needs to move on from this immoral idea!"

James slowly interjected with a frown, "Hermione, you only say that because your whole family was in Slytherin, including your little brother."

At the mention of the youngest Black, Sirius flinched, and a sudden rage lashed out in Hermione at her best friend's words, leaving her palms with half-moon dents as she clenched her hands tightly.

"Would you have been stopping us from pranking Slytherins, had your brother not been in that House?" James continued, a challenging hint in his tone as he ignored Remus's warning look.

Her eyes turned steely as she glowered at him. "Yes, because I'm not a _fucking bully_," she told him sharply. "And you! If you _really_ want Evans to give you the time of the day, maybe you should stop bullying her best friend, who just ends up being in Slytherin. Who bloody cares!"

She paused to take a deep, shuddering breath, before adding through clenched teeth, "Oh, and my brothers, _including_ Reg, are my _only_ family."

With that, she snatched her bag and stormed to the library.

James grimaced at the retreating girl, throwing Sirius an apologetic look. "Maybe, I went too far."

"Yes, you did," Sirius said as he sent him a scathing look, dragging a hand over his face.

Marlene approached them after watching her friend leave as she was entering the Great Hall.

"What did you guys do?" she demanded resignedly, immediately knowing from their expressions that something was up.

"We had a fight over Slytherins, and I mentioned her brother." James glanced down at his plate, hoping that the tight pang of regret in his chest would soon disappear.

"I should probably follow and talk to her," the other twin blurted out, staring at the doorway with worry etched on his face.

"Leave it, Black," the blonde insisted in a frosty tone. "Had you really wanted to go after her, you would've done so already, so stay with your mates while I go."

Marlene took her time to glare at each of the four boys, pursing her lips as she marched to the library.

* * *

Lingering by the doorway for a few seconds, she looked around to see if Hermione's usual seat was occupied. Satisfied at the sight of the curly haired witch, she decided on taking small, tentative strides.

Once she reached the table, she ruffled Hermione's hair slightly as she took a seat next to her. "Hey, Herms."

"Hey, Marls," she received in a distant tone.

Getting no other reaction from her, Marlene sighed severely. "Alright, shoot."

Finally, Hermione furrowed her brows at her and asked, "What?"

"Tell me what's wrong, and don't say nothing, because I know there must be a reason why you're not _panting_ after that book on the table," she pressed in a mocking somber tone.

"I said Greek Mythology excites me _one_ time, and you still won't let that go!" Hermione argued, exasperated.

Marlene smiled willingly at fully catching the girl's attention. "Yes, yes. Now, tell me why you're sulking."

As soon as she said so, the girl in front of her burst into tears, covering her face with her hands as she sobbed hoarsely. Marlene scooted closer to her and took her in her arms, occasionally murmuring words of reassurance every time her breath hitched through cries.

Feeling her body ease slightly, she let go of Hermione and said, "Let it all out, love. I know you're keeping it all in there, but it's not worth it."

Hermione nodded, her lips trembling before her mouth opened to rant. Marlene sat back in her seat and knew all too well that it will take Hermione a long time to be done talking. It was what she always did, whenever things upset her and she exploded all at once.

"You know when everything hits you all at once, and you hope that at least _one_ thing, I swear _one_ thing, will go well but it starts feeling like everyone is just out to get you."

She paused, gasping for air, and continued. "I got some really bad news last night and I was hoping today could go alright, because you know how I am when I don't get enough sleep. And something good _did_ happen! Diggory asked me out on a date—I even decided to volunteer myself for one of the boys' pranks."

At Marlene's stunned gaze, she waved her hands around in distress and gave her a sincere nod. "Exactly! It was going perfectly before _Dumb and Dumber_ decided to make it about Slytherins and then, mention Reg and—_fuck_, I'm a mess."

Marlene shook her head steadfastly and grabbed her shoulders to force Hermione to look at her.

"Now, you listen here," she ordered passionately. "You are _not_ a mess. You're going through a lot and it shows how strong you are. The boys shouldn't have been so hard on you."

Marlene's voice was rising, but she didn't care. She wouldn't allow her friend to think she was weak because of some ridiculous blokes. "If anything, they should've listened to what you were saying. You're right to call them out, even if one of them is your own twin," she finished, dropping her gaze on the book. She grabbed it and stuffed it into Hermione's bag.

She then gripped Hermione's forearm, and despite the girl's protests, she dragged her outside of the castle. They both sat in silence, the chill breeze dancing around the Black Lake.

Things were okay for the moment.

* * *

Hermione strolled through the corridor and cursed under her breath at the familiar glimpse of hair. She narrowed her eyes and moved closer to see him kneeling next to a small girl as she cried quietly. She seemed to be a first year, and Hermione stood dumbfounded once she recognized the emerald and silver tie.

The boy didn't seem to notice her presence, not until after he waved the Slytherin goodbye and tugged his hands into his pockets. Hermione considered turning back around but stopped when he cleared his throat. She crossed her arms and stared at him, her eyes boring into his own hazel ones.

His mop of hair looked untidier than usual, random strands sticking out, and he was probably the only one who could sport the look and manage to look handsome in it. James Potter had grown into the boy she'd initially ran into when they were eleven years old. His jaw was now sharper, and his cheekbones shaped his face perfectly. The only thing that stayed was his eyes, the same ones currently holding a pleading look.

She sighed. "Is there anything you would like to say, James?"

"I'm sorry," he paused, licking his lips, and watching her reaction carefully. "What you said back there . . . you were right, as always. Deep down, I _knew_ that, but I still said things I shouldn't have, and I really regret it."

She studied his face, only to be met with sincerity in both his voice and expression. A small smile grew on her lips and she nodded slowly. "It's alright. I forgive you, _Prongs_."

His face split into a wide grin, and he slung his arm around her shoulders. "Alright, _Cub_. The pack awaits you."


	17. Fuck Divination

**November, 1975.**

"Err - you have something in your hair."

Hermione turned around to see a boy shuffle on his feet as he pointed at her hair. She curiously raised her hand and ran her fingers through the mass of curls, still finding nothing. At her confused frown, the Ravenclaw moved closer and a hesitant hand made its way to the top of her head.

She watched his expression turn into a triumphant grin and he moved back, holding onto a Bowtruckle. She groaned loudly.

"I just came out of my Care of Magical Creatures class," she explained in hopes of him not coming up with his own assumption as to why her hair was residing a magical beast. "It was with Slytherins," she then added, and his eyes softened in understanding.

He gestured towards Hagrid's hut and she nodded in agreement. They both walked back to where the class was held previously.

"I remember when I had that class, and one of them wrapped around my wand. I almost pissed myself," he told her as he sat down and let the creature make its way into the Forbidden Forest.

She chuckled at the embarrassment that grew on his face. "That class can get rather messy, so don't worry. At least, it didn't get stuck in your _hair_," Hermione reassured him, and he gave her a wide smile.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Hermione tried to remember if she'd ever seen him before. He was much taller than her, and the jet-black hair that sat in light waves complimented his lightly tanned skin.

"What year are you in?" she blurted out, cheeks reddening slightly at her own straightforwardness. She mentally cursed herself for always letting her curiosity get the best of her.

His face split into a grin. "Must bother you not knowing who I am," he teased, and at her confused gaze, he added, "I've heard a lot about you being one of the smartest witches of our age."

She gave him an exaggerated roll of her eyes, and he quirked his brow at her. "You don't agree?"

"I'd like to think I'm smart, but my grades are nothing like Lily Evans's."

He nodded thoughtfully, although he told her, "How you deal with your classes doesn't necessarily measure your level of intelligence. I heard Professor McGonagall say that even your brother would have much higher grades, if he were to focus less on . . . _Marauding._"

"You're right! He's really good at Transfiguration, but he just chooses not to do his homework," she mused with a fond smile. Even before he'd become an Animagus, Sirius had exceeded his performances in the class, and she was admittedly jealous over falling behind, even if just for a minute or so.

The Ravenclaw gave her a satisfied smile, and they continued walking back towards the castle. "You still haven't told me what year you're in," she muttered, her voice breaking the silence.

"I'm in seventh year," he finally answered. He stopped abruptly and turned to face her with an extended hand. "Benjy Fenwick, a pleasure to meet you," he told her with a charming grin.

She let out a low chuckle and shook his hand. "Hermione Black but apparently, you already knew that already."

He looked mighty proud of himself. "I'd be a fool to not know one of the famous Black twins."

"You know, if you'd called me a Marauder like people usually do, you'd have been hexed by me. Consider yourself saved."

He feigned a dramatic shudder and then, he proceeded to send her a critical look. "Do you mind if I study with you and Lupin in the library? I have _N.E.W.T.s_ this year, and I want to try my best . . ."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically and held herself back from grinning like a fool. Though, she did urge out a noise from the back of her throat. "Finally, a friend who asks to join me in the library."

He gave her a blinding smile. "Friend?"

She nodded solemnly. "Friend."

"Alright, alright. If I'd known this would be your reaction, I'd have hung out with you earlier," he told her, clear regret gracing his features.

"Why didn't you?" she asked with a curious tilt of her head.

His lips pursed in a childish pout. "Sirius Black would've assumed I'm trying to get into your knickers. By the way, I am _not._"

"Is that why only three guys . . ." her voice trailed off in disbelief, and she looked back at Benjy for confirmation, the boy seemingly fighting off an amused smile.

"Approached you?" he asked, looking surprised that she hadn't noticed it much sooner. "Yes, all the boys in every House know not to do so."

"Diggory has done it in front of him," she pointed out petulantly, but he gave her a simple, puzzled shrug.

Hermione scowled darkly, and she knew she had a certain twin to find.

* * *

The Fat Lady opened the portrait hole, revealing a furious Hermione. She gripped her wand in a tight hold and refrained from hexing Sirius straight away as she strolled into his dorm.

She swung the door open and her vicious glare immediately landed on him. "Sirius Orion Black," she growled loudly.

Hermione strid to James's bed, where all the boys sat, and her brother eyed her wand wearily, instantly raising his hands up in surrender.

Surrender, her arse!

"How _dare_ you threaten every boy to stay away from me!" she screeched, aiming her wand right at his face—something that terrified him _greatly_.

"What—oh, _that_. I mean - I don't know what you're talking about," he sputtered in protest, shrinking by Remus's side.

She drew a calming breath and turned to the other boys, who gulped visibly and backed away in apprehension. "Did you two know about this?"

Peter paled. "Yes, but—"

"—it was in third year," James said with a simple shrug.

"He no longer does it," finished Remus with a reassuring smile.

She frowned at the werewolf, but reluctantly dropped her wand arm. "I trusted you to tell me if something like that happened."

Giving him no chance to answer, she looked back at the boy that still refused to look remorseful. "Well," she bit forcefully, "what makes you think you can do that?"

"You're my little sister. Of course, I had to do that," he insisted, standing up and stomping on his foot like a petulant child that couldn't handle being told off.

Her fisted hands automatically landed on her hips and she bristled incredulously. "Little sister or not, you have _no_ right! Did I tell the girls in my year to go snog someone other than you? No, I didn't — no matter how nauseating it is."

The twins glared at each other, their bond increasing the intensity of the magic that pulsed around their forms. The other boys jumped off the bed and their eyes widened when they felt the magic somewhat soften.

Sirius dragged his hand across his face, and he gave her a hesitant nod. "You're right. I shouldn't have done that, and I promise not to cause problems with Diggory."

Hermione bit her lip, suddenly feeling slightly guilty for attacking him with words so harshly. They both knew that it caused them to remember a certain older witch, whose screeches they'd grown up hearing.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, and the corners of her lips twitched. "I wonder how a thirteen years old Sirius managed to scare off the older Gryffindors," she joked.

True to the Marauders' words, Hermione found herself watching a re-enactment with all the boys telling her exactly how it went.

* * *

When Hermione came back from the library, she found Sirius waiting for her at the entrance with the Marauder's Map in his hands. "Thought you might want to go to the kitchens with me," he explained at the quizzical quirk of her brow.

After they avoided running into Filch and his beloved cat more than _three_ times, Sirius let her do the honour and tickle the infamous pear.

The fruit turned into a large, green knob and as it turned, the door was pulled open, revealing five sets of large tables, identical to the ones in the Great Hall. They were instantly greeted with the clanging of pots and the smell of the leftover dinner.

"How can Ruby help Mister Siri and Miss Hermy?" Ruby squeaked as she looked up at them.

"Two hot chocolates, please," she replied with a grateful smile, while Sirius took to snickering at the nickname the house elves had given her.

"Shut up, _Siri_." She tried to force her face to remain straight, though her lips lifted into an amused grin and they both burst out laughing.

They eventually settled down in a comfortable silence, and she sipped on the drink in delight, letting out a soft sigh.

"So . . . how are you doing with everything?" she heard Sirius ask as she looked up from her goblet. His eyes held a vivid concern, and she expelled another sigh. This time because of a whole other reason.

"See, this is why I didn't tell you. I hate worrying you," she complained, a sad smile on her face.

He frowned at her and insisted, "You still haven't answered my question, and don't think I wasn't angry, when I found out you've been hiding it from me for _four _years."

She ducked her head, guilt churning in her stomach like acid. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"I'm sorry, too," he told her and shook his head when she immediately went to protest. "No, I _am_. I'm your twin and we even have a bond for Merlin's sake! I still slept through the night, while my connection was telling me you were suffering!"

"They weren't that bad," she argued meekly, and his features softened as he gave her a light nudge with his shoulder.

"Yes, well. I've asked Dumbledore to get another bed in my dorm, so you can sleep on mine, instead. And before you say anything, I won't let you get out of this. He agreed that staying in my vicinity will help."

Hermione knew better than to argue with him at the finality in his tone. Instead, she asked, "What did you tell the boys?"

"You might hate it because it makes you sound weak, but I told them you've been having bad dreams and the bond needs us near each other."

She slumped against the chair in defeat, the corners of her lips pulling down, and she shrugged. "I have worse things to worry about."

Sirius nodded, standing up and offering her a hand. Before she could ask where they were going, he spoke up, "Let's go wake that old wizard again."

She laughed and was thankful for the lightness in her chest, before they could make their way to have yet another heavy conversation.

* * *

"Would I have still been born?"

The Headmaster's deep, blue eyes twinkled, and he smiled at her. "Of course, Miss Black."

"Why do I look so different then?"

"Have you read about Muggle genetics?" At her immediate nod, he continued in amusement, "I am unaware of how many relatives you have met, but I believe that you take after your Squib uncle, Marius Black. Have you seen a picture of him?"

Hermione gasped at his words, finally recalling one of his pictures that she'd found many years ago. Sirius had asked their father who it was, but the wizard had vanished the piece and they'd known better than to ask him again.

It all made sense, now that she thought back to it, and Hermione didn't know why she'd once gone as far as to believe that the Black family had adopted her.

"Headmaster," curiously spoke Sirius for the first time that night. "When is Hermione getting her journal back?"

The older man gave her brother a hesitant glance and handed her what she'd given him previously. As she flipped through the familiar pages, she asked, "How do I get the voice to give me the full information?"

"I believe you will have to get her to trust you," he answered promptly, stroking his long, wiry beard with a contemplative expression.

Sirius let out an annoyed huff. "Does this mean she'll continue to get nightmares until then?"

"Indeed, she will. _Hermione_, you ought to continue recording what you see until then. As for your Seer visions, they will still be there regardless."

For the first time in her life, she heard Sirius swear under his breath, with what sounded like, "Fuck Divination."


	18. The Same Way

**November, 1975.**

Professor Dumbledore seemingly ignored her brother's slip of tongue, instead pinning a determined gaze on her.

"Hermione, there's something I must ask you to do. It is of extreme importance that you learn to Occlude your mind. Not only will it be useful to separate your thoughts and visions, but it will protect you from prying eyes. Were you to face Voldemort one day—" Sirius loudly gritted his teeth at that, "you ought to keep him from knowing your secret. I trust you understand?"

As she mutely nodded, his blue gaze shifted towards Sirius before dragging it back on her. "It would look suspicious, if I were to call you continuously to my office for such lessons. It is why I've asked a student of mine who's both an Occlumens and Legilimens. He'll make sure to teach you in theory and I'm sure, practically, as well. However, I'll be the one checking your progress monthly."

He allowed the information to sink in and waited calmly for her to speak up and fire more questions at him. Drawing a deep breath, she straightened in her seat and looked at him, confident in herself. "I promise I will do my best to learn. Who is the student?"

"Severus Snape," he told them evenly, and the twins stood abruptly at once, a similar shock etched on their faces.

". . . Professor?"

"_Him?_"

They eventually sat back down when he ordered them to listen, heaving a weary sigh and stroking at his beard. He suddenly looked much older, she thought, and guilt twanged in her gut as she forced herself to stay calm.

"Professor," she started once more, in a highly timid tone. "How do we know we can trust him with this secret? You said he would also use Legilimency on me—"

"I assure you - I have taken the proper measures, and he has promised not to pry any secrets from your mind. Were he to see something he shouldn't, the oath he has taken would stop him from mouthing it off to anyone," he interjected calmly.

"Why would he do that?" Sirius questioned loudly, fairly mistrustful. "What does he gain?"

"I have promised him a position as Horace's apprentice after graduation. It is of dire importance that these lessons are held at school and hiring someone from outside would pose a much higher risk. I'm sure House rivalry bears much less importance than your sister's safety, Mr. Black."

Sirius sunk down his seat and turned to look at her. He was watching her carefully and she tried not to shrink back at the weight of her decision.

Hermione knew of how much he despised Snape, no matter how many years had passed and how many times she'd stopped him from pranking the Slytherin. Both rivals would draw their wands every time they faced each other, no matter the circumstances.

She gnawed on her bottom lip, and she asked, "Wouldn't it look odd to others for me to spend time with him?"

Hermione thought she saw the Headmaster's lips curl up slightly in success. "Perhaps, you could say that you need a Potions tutor, and I've made sure to assign him to you, to promote inner-House bonds. Of course, you will have to make sure to treat each other nicely, as Severus is free to stop the lessons whenever he wishes to do so."

She frowned. "I guess . . . it all seems _very_ well thought."

"Indeed."

* * *

"Fucking _Snivellus_ \- of all people! Cub, I'm telling you. That old man is going bonkers," Sirius snarled in indignation as they both walked back to the Gryffindor tower.

The conversation had left Sirius especially upset, and no matter how many times she tried to calm him down, he continued to protest about it all through their way up.

"Sirius," she called curtly, stopping them both abruptly. They were so close to the Fat Lady's portrait that she could hear her light snoring.

"I get it. This bothers you but — but _I_ am the one who must deal with him and let him read my mind. _I_ am the one who has to deal with the rest of the boys not knowing what the real reason for hanging out with him is. So, _please_, shut up and calm down before you let the whole castle know!"

His shoulders sagged in defeat and he expelled a prolonged sigh, echoing through the night's darkness. He bit his lip but didn't argue. Instead, he grunted with a wary nod.

Her lips parted on a breath and for a moment she doubted he'd actually agreed. "Good," she hastened to breathe out, not allowing him to take anything back.

They proceeded to stroll to the entrance in silence, where they were thoroughly chastised for always coming in late. They walked up the stairs, and Sirius looked back at her once before pulling the door open.

Much to her dismay, the boys were still awake, and she watched as they all turned to look to where the twins stood by the doorway.

James sat up on his bed and he raked a hand through his mop of hair. "Where were you?" he asked, nodding at the two.

She moved to sit on the bed that was the closest, it being Remus's, and she crossed her legs. She caught Sirius's eye as he settled on his own bed, and she sent him a pointed look. She knew he had realized that he was the one who should start, when he groaned loudly.

"We were with Dumbedore—"

"—because he called me, and Sirius wanted to come," Hermione finished quickly.

She turned to look at Remus as he stared at her with a quizzical look. He eventually asked, "Why?"

Hermione peered at her best friend, fingers nervously smoothing over the blanket that lay underneath her legs. "Apparently, I need a Potions tutor and Professor Dumbledore told me who I must go for help," she answered carefully.

They stared at her, waiting for the eventual name and she sighed, too tired to avoid the inevitable. "Snape."

Peter choked on a disbelieving noise as he sat up. "The Slytherin?"

Sirius looked at him incredulously. "Yes, Petey. How many other Snape's do you know?"

Peter flushed, wide eyed as he mumbled, "Just the Slytherin one."

"The Slytherin one," she repeated in assent.

"And you agreed," James finalized once he was done gawking at her. He then turned towards Sirius and assessed him appraisingly. "_And_ you're _fine_ with it."

"Yes," the twins replied simultaneously.

Her legs screamed in pain and she eventually stretched them out, dragging herself off Remus's bed as she proceeded to walk to Sirius's mattress, instead. Her brother had made space for her, allowing her to tuck her body underneath the blankets, welcoming the warmth and familiar scent that comforted her greatly.

She felt his hand run a hand through her hair—stopping occasionally when it got stuck in her tangled curls—and Sirius continued to bicker with the boys in the background.

Hermione allowed her twin's presence to lull her into what she hoped would be a peaceful sleep.

.

Eventually, the sheets stirred and the bed shifted as Sirius stood up to sleep on his new bed, instead. He only came back to join her for some time a few hours later, when the clench in his chest told him she was having yet another nightmare.

He held onto her hand tightly, whispering sweet, comforting words, and blinking back a few tears at the guilt that came flooding in, forcing him to see what he'd ignored for the past five years.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione felt somewhat rested. It was unusual, waking up and seeing the sleeping forms of four boys instead of girls. She missed Marlene dearly, but knew she'd get to see her friend's radiating smile in class, instead.

She quickly made her way to the bathroom. She washed herself, promising her body some relief before she could deal with the obstacles of the day. She changed into her uniform and brushed her hair—or gave up halfway through the process.

When she came out, she saw Remus waiting for her with both of their bags slung on his shoulders. They shared tired, yet warm smiles and headed down to the Great Hall in the hopes of a warm cup of coffee, and in Remus's case, tea.

.

By the time she was almost done with her toast, her brother and James came strutting in.

"Where's Peter?" Remus asked as Sirius joined her side and James sat facing her.

James leaned forward, grabbing Hermione's cup to take a quick sip, ignoring her protests as he quickly gulped it down. Eventually, he slammed his eyes shut and placed his cheek on his upturned palm, "Told us he wasn't feeling well, so we let him sleep. By the way - today, we should . . ."

Hermione tuned out of the conversation, glancing up to find Snape as he walked in, wearing the usual sour look on his face. She frowned and briefly wondered if he was related to her mother.

Perhaps not something she should ask during his lesson, she realized with a slight grimace.

She watched him sit down, minding his own business as he gathered his breakfast on his plate. He looked up sharply and met her gaze, staring back at her with an impassive face.

Hermione pointedly ignored her mind telling her to look away, as she believed that would be a defeat in her case.

It was only when memories of last night came flooding in, that she realized he was using Legilimency on her—in the middle of breakfast, amongst _everyone_.

She scrambled to break eye contact when the images stopped, not before sending him a fierce glare. Hermione didn't know how she was going to handle spending time with him, but if they both wanted this to work, it would be of his better interest not to invade her mind so carelessly in the future.

* * *

After explaining to Marlene as to why she'd been missing the previous night and how it would continue to happen, the blonde was quick to pull her into a bone crushing embrace.

When she pulled away, she smiled winningly, and Hermione noticed the bright sheen in her brown eyes. "I'm glad you're getting help," Marlene told her with an emotional sniff.

Hermione continued to stare at her in confusion, not quite knowing what she was talking about, and her friend pushed her Potions notes away to whisper, "I know about the nightmares."

Unable to stop herself from obviously paling, Hermione leaned away in shock. "_How?_"

"Don't worry," her friend interjected, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "You forgot to draw your curtains in third year and since then, I just managed to catch a glimpse whenever they happened. I'm glad that Sirius's presence will help you, now."

Hermione sent her a tight, uneasy smile, sure that it had ended up looking like a grimace. "Yes - well, I've got worse things to worry about."

At Marlene's arched brow, she proceeded to explain the _tutoring_ lessons with Snape and briefly contemplated getting a Muggle recording piece, which she could play every time she had to disclose the same thing over and over again.

Her conscience—screaming at her for lying so often; that too to the people she loved—didn't help.

.

It was only after her class had ended and she'd gathered her things to head to the library, that Snape approached her. He was visibly clenching his fists in frustration, and her lips thinned, pondering over what she may have done over the years to anger him so much.

_Yes_, he could hate her brother because Sirius _shared_ the sentiment. On the other hand, Hermione could care less for the rivalry and had always gone out of her way to ignore him, making sure not to bother him.

Last time she remembered actually talking to him was probably the last study session she had with him and Lily. Coming in between him and the Marauders — to stop whatever duel they were in — didn't count as talking.

She zipped her bag, slinging it over her shoulder, and she looked at him expectantly. He sent her a brief scowl. "Meet me in the library in five minutes," he ordered, his voice firm.

Hermione merely tilted her head at him. "Okay."

Not bothering to look back at her, he left the classroom and she strolled in the same direction as they had the same destination. She didn't think that would disturb him terribly, until he halted abruptly, making her slam against his back.

He lurched away from her and turned to send her a scathing look. "Why are you following me?" he snapped, and she resisted the urge to throttle him.

"Snape," she started slowly, as if she were talking to a child. "We are going the _same_ way—the library, remember?"

He eyed her with distaste and eventually turned back around, walking purposely in long strides.

Hermione had to admit that she hated being so short; even her Animagus had forced her to become a small animal. Despite Sirius telling her that she looked adorable, she was jealous of Padfoot for being an actual _grown_ dog.

Though, looking like the Grim wasn't as pleasant.

The pair quietly slipped into the library, making their way to the farthest corner. The spot was secluded and despite not having any personal issues with the boy, she still clutched onto her wand defensively.

Not noticing her apprehension, Snape grabbed a chair and sat down, facing her at the far end of the table. He raised his wand and flicked it at the spot where other students could be seen studying.

"_Muffliato_," he murmured, and she stopped herself from asking what the spell had been. Instead, she bit her lip, meeting his dark eyes with a hopeful gaze.

"I know we don't have the most ideal history and you don't want anything to do with me," she began, ignoring his loud snort that contained no amusement at her words, "but the Headmaster has suggested you, and I'd really appreciate it if we could just work together. I _really_ need your help."

She wanted to take back her words as soon as they left her mouth, once he began to look too smug for her liking.

_No_, she told herself. She needed to look friendly, and to look that way, she needed to think friendly, as well.

"Alright," he finally said, pulling her out of her thoughts.

Hermione nodded, more to herself than him. She stared at him, gathering as much willpower as she could, but faltered as soon as he pointed his wand at her.

"_Legilimency._"


	19. The Advice

**November, 1975.**

Despite previously being convinced that she was prepared for the lesson, Hermione hadn't thought that she'd come to detest it so much.

The moment Snape pointed his wand at her, she was unable to block him out or even _think_ of how to do it. He'd been too fast, and she could _feel_ him rifling through her memories.

She held back a whimper as pain fired through her head.

_She was running through the tall, green grass as her brothers continued to fly above her._

_She was in the kitchens, drinking a cup of hot chocolate with Remus._

_She was looking over a book in a Muggle bookstore, as Marlene complained about being hungry._

_She was writhing on the floor, her mother looking down at her in disdain and opening her mouth to send yet another—_

Her teeth ground tightly, and she gathered enough energy to freeze the memory, stumbling off the chair as she did so. She slumped against the bookcase and shut her eyes tightly, hot tears pricking against her lashes.

"No," she said in a hoarse voice, clutching her throbbing head as her curls tangled around her wrists. She held back a sob and moved to grip the edge of the table, sitting up to face him once more. "You could've fucking warned me."

His eyes grew steely at her glare. "Tell me, Black. Do you think your enemy is going to let you know when they're about to invade your mind?"

"I deserve to at least learn how to Occlude first," she snapped, her knuckles turning white, though she was already tired of fighting with him. Her headache had yet to dissolve and the last thing she wanted to do was to get into an argument with someone who didn't care to listen.

"We are done for today," he told her sharply, snatching his bag from the floor and slinging it over his shoulder.

They both rose to their feet and she moved to stand directly in front of him, scowling as crossed her arms. "I haven't learned anything yet!"

"I'm going to decide how these lessons are going to work. Bring chocolate, tomorrow. I really don't want you complaining about your headache," he sneered and brushed past her, leaving her glowering at the now empty spot.

Five minutes ago, Severus Snape had been watching her be scolded by Walburga Black, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

* * *

Hermione plunked herself down in between Remus and Sirius, startling the latter out of his slumber. She was one second away from hexing any first year who dared to raise their voice, although she wasn't sure she wanted to be named _Bellatrix's_ twin.

She continued stirring her soup, her brows creasing in frustration. Remus must've noticed her expression because he nudged her shoulder with his own, and she glanced at him.

"What's got you so bothered?" he asked in a low voice. Thank Godric For the existence of lovely, _understanding_, Remus Lupin.

Giving him a thankful expression, she expelled a sigh before replying, "I just got back from Snape's lesson."

He grimaced and handed her a glass of water, which she gratefully took with a smile. "That bad, huh?"

"Yes, well. What did you expect? Snape—"

"Did Snivellus do something?" a voice interrupted her and her eyes flicked ahead, now locked with a hazel gaze.

She eyed James warily and he shrunk in his seat immediately. At least, he looked somewhat apologetic for name calling a Slytherin, _still_.

However, her bones were aching too much for her to give him yet another teaching, and she let it go. Instead, she shook her head. "No. Nothing at all," _other than invade my mind twice without my permission_.

"He just started the tutoring classes. Really, James. You and Sirius better not do something." She turned to give Sirius a pointed look, which forced him to reluctantly nod and sag in defeat.

Glancing back at James, she watched as he opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself. His lips pressed into a tight line and his gaze wandered off to far right, where she knew Lily sat.

James met her eyes once again and she quirked a questioning brow at him. His expression had shifted into that of acceptance and determination. "You're right."

"You—" she paused, recalling her words from their fight, when she'd told him to grow up. "Am I correct to assume that you're _actually_ following my advice?"

The rest of the boys looked at him in astonishment, James nodding along as he fixed his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Evans needs mature? I'll give her mature."

He glared at Sirius's snort and must have kicked his foot under the table, when Sirius groaned in loud anguish.

They proceeded to ignore the boy.

"Will you keep waiting for Lily to notice you?" Peter asked through a mouthful of food, and she wrinkled her nose at the sight.

Being friends with the Marauders sure was hard.

James sent him a thoughtful look. "Maybe, I could try making her jealous, too . . . so she can realize how much she needs her soulmate."

Hermione hummed. "It surprisingly sounds like a good plan. At first, I didn't think you were serious—" she allowed.

"That's because _I_ am _Sirius_!"

"—But this could work. Do you even know who you're going to use to make her jealous?"

"Well . . ." James stared at her with a hopeful look, and her eyes widened in dismay.

"_Nope_," she told him, popping the _'p'_ and shaking her head frantically for a good measure. "I refuse to give Lily Evans yet another reason to hate me."

His lips pursed in a childish pout. "She doesn't hate you." When he was given four incredulous looks, he sighed and ran a nervous hand through his untidy locks.

Sirius smiled lazily at his best friend. "Mate, I might just have the _perfect_ girl for you."

Remus rolled his eyes, while James gave him a grin. "Right, I always knew you were my true best friend."

Hermione feigned a loud gasp. "And here I thought I was the rightful owner of that place!"

James's lips curved into a smile, and he replied flippantly, "_Nope_, princess. You have to fight for it."

"Right, I'm going to ignore the fact you called my sister _that_. Instead, I want you to look behind at the Hufflepuff table and look for the blondie in fourth year. _Goldstein_, something. Can you see her?"

Hermione swept her gaze over the Hufflepuff table, her eyes falling on Diggory first, who was staring right back at her already. His face broke out into a smile, which she eagerly returned before looking away. Her eyes then flicked over to the girl in question. "Lena Goldstein," she informed them.

She had long, blonde hair, and her blue eyes could be seen sparkling as she continued to laugh at her friend's words.

Hermione looked back and chuckled lowly when she saw James stare at a certain redhead, instead. She kicked him in the shins, and he jumped, nodding wearily at Sirius. "I saw her. Are you sure she won't get too attached?"

Her brother waved a dismissive hand. "_Nah_, she'll be cool with it."

"And how do you know so much about her, brother?" she questioned with a raised brow.

"That's for me to know and for my precious, little sister to never find out."

She scoffed at him, a slow smirk forming on her lips. "I'll have you know I am not so innocent. I have—"

With a wave of his wand, Sirius had immediately silenced her and when her words refused to come out soundly, she sent him a thunderous look.

Once his eyes widened at the imminent danger, he shot up to his feet, sprinting towards the entrance and Hermione following him hot on her heels.

"Mr. Black, no running! Miss Black, no hexing another student!"

Professor McGonagall could be _seen_ aging at an even higher rate, due to the stress caused by the Black twins. _Two more years_, the old woman repeated to herself, _two more years and then, it's all over._


	20. How Typical

**November, 1975.**

"D'you want some?" asked Hermione, waving around a chunk of chocolate fudge from Honeydukes.

The boy ignored her, not before sending her a scathing look. He clenched his jaw tightly and finally spoke up, "You're supposed to eat them _after_ the lesson, Black."

"I know, but I _am_ missing breakfast because of you, so I might as well have a snack while you talk," she stated, rolling her eyes at the rigid Slytherin.

Snape expelled a long, dramatic breath and crossed his arms.

"Stop wasting my time and let's start. To Occlude your mind properly, the first thing you must do is clear your mind and regroup your memories in different boxes. You must lock them away, Black. The only thing you should think of is one, singular place. Build anything that would prolong the search of your mind and eventually, kick the person out."

Hermione gave him a slow nod and he continued:

"This place could be the Black Lake, for example, since you spend so much time there." At her surprised look, he rolled his eyes.

How was she supposed to know that even a Slytherin was aware of her favourite spot?

"Build a maze on top of the lake; picture any kind of walls surrounding the water surface. Try doing that."

Hermione drew a breath, before focusing on creating a clear image of the large body of water. She imagined tall walls made of grass, starting from the side of the lake, and continuing atop of the wet surface. Inside the different lanes of the maze, she put enchanted boats sailing on their own, at a gentle pace.

As she nodded to indicate that she'd done what he'd asked, Snape locked his eyes with her own and once again, she experienced the feeling of her mind being invaded. This time, however, it took him much longer than the day prior, as he had to break her image first.

Still, the walls slowly shattered and a familiar memory began to play.

_James was staring at Lily during dinner and Sirius was stealing a piece of bread from his best friend's plate. Remus handed her a glass of water and she started to talk about the tutoring lesson—_

Frantically, she caught up and raised the vibrant, green walls again against the edge of the blue, frozen water of the Black Lake. She sighed in relief when Snape was thrown out of her mind effectively.

Snape quirked a brow and eyed her appraisingly. "How . . . _interesting_."

"I didn't say anything bad about you," she insisted. She may not like his behaviour, but she didn't want to create a misunderstanding between them. He already resented her just enough.

"I don't care what you say about me, Black," he said with a sneer, and she almost left it to that.

"We may not be - err, _friends_," she huffed when he let out something that resembled a short laugh, "but I _do_ want us to be at least . . . cordial."

"Who said I want the same?" His expression turned conceited as if she was desperately asking to be his friend.

The Marauders would lose their minds at that.

"Well, we _are_ going to be spending a lot of time together, so we might as well get rid of the tiring hostility. It could make things easier for you and who knows, perhaps we'll soften up to each other," she told him matter-of-factly, well aware that she had to mention self preservation to get the attention of a Slytherin.

"The day that happens I will go ahead and braid Sirius Black's hair," he retorted with a straight face.

She let out an incredulous laugh—grinning at the image of Sirius sitting in between Snape's legs, while getting his hair done by the Slytherin—and she swore she saw Snape's lips quirk up a little, as well.

"One more reason why it should happen," she teased as he looked at the watch on the wall and stood up. They gathered their books silently and stood facing each other.

"Next lesson is tomorrow, at _lunch_," he told her, breaking the silence, and she gave him a hesitant nod. She thought he'd set the time on purpose - to make her miss yet another meal, but didn't mention it.

They _were_ making progress.

* * *

Hermione entered her Transfiguration class and walked to the back, sitting next to Marlene. Remus gave her a smile from the seat behind them and she grinned at the sight. Her best friend was looking much better and she was glad they were able to help him during the latest transformation.

"Hey, you," she sang as she poked Marlene's arm. The blonde looked at her and arched a brow in what seemed the perfect angle. "Do you practice that in the mirror everyday?" Hermione questioned.

"Uh, huh. I had to do something, while you took hours with your hair in the morning," Marlene quipped with a small smirk.

"Not my fault you have boring hair," Hermione remarked with an equal amount of mirth.

"Your hair isn't interesting, per se. It just has a personality of its own." Her friend waved her hands wildly, attempting to showcase an imaginary bush of hair that Hermione hadn't really seen since their fourth year.

Her curls weren't that bad anymore. _Honestly_.

"Thank you for the evaluation on Miss Black's hair. Perhaps, we can proceed with the lesson now, Miss McKinnon?" a stern voice called for their attention, and they quickly turned to face the front of the class, where Professor McGonagall and a handful of other students were staring right back at them.

She flushed slightly, while Marlene merely waved a dismissive hand and grinned. "_Surely_."

After yet another disapproving look, the older woman turned to prepare for the lesson and Hermione stared ahead, waiting to learn yet another lesson. It was then that she found a fresh piece of parchment folded on her desk, and she nudged it warily with her wand.

Eventually, she picked it up and unfolded the creases, her eyes catching sight of a familiar handwriting.

_A Ravenclaw told a third year Hufflepuff who told me that you were _ _ **laughing** _ _ with Snape._

She craned her head to give James a bored look, and he raised a scrap of parchment of his own, pointing at it. She would have been proud of him for enchanting the paper as a communicative method, had she not known that he'd gotten it done by Remus.

At least, the idea was his, or so she believed, anyways.

Hermione promptly turned back around and grabbed her quill, dipping it into her pot of ink before writing a response.

_Yes, it turns out he's very funny._

Even though she had her back to him, she was sure he was faking a shudder by now and judging by the yelp that followed, she assumed Remus had already given him a piece of his mind.

She glanced back down and found a reply from him.

_Don't muggles talk about chemistry as sexual tension between two people?_

Hermione quirked a brow at his words. _Well, yes. I'd guess so. Even though I'm not sure that's how you'd put it. What about it, anyways?_

How the boy had even come to know about something like that, Hermione did not know, but she had a bad feeling about what he was about to say.

_Well, princess. Isn't chemistry supposed to be somewhat like Potions—meaning you and Snape might have sexual tension in between? Do you _ _ **really** _ _ want to have crook nosed and greasy haired children?_

She wrinkled her nose at his train of thought and furiously wrote back an answer, deciding on messing with him.

_I hadn't thought about it, but now I just might. Thank you very much._

She smiled when she heard him scoff loudly and their teacher made sure to remind him to focus. _Take that_, she thought, _for listening to rumours_.

"Hermione, what am I hearing about you wanting to have Snape's children?" he questioned in a rather loud volume, and numerous people turned around to look at her for the second time that day.

Resisting the urge to cast a Notice-Me-Not charm on herself, she considered making new friends, instead.

Hermione gave everyone a tight, uneasy smile as she shook her head furiously and focused on the lesson ahead. She will not give in to the urge to hurt him - no, she will _not_.

.

It was when the class had ended and she'd quickly slipped out of the room, that Hermione noticed that the boys had hurried after her. She rolled her eyes at how indiscreet they were being, and she turned around, tapping her foot impatiently as they caught up to her.

"There you are!" Remus exclaimed in an uncomfortable tone and she sent him a look, making him glance down in shame.

Peter let out a pant as he stopped to take a breather. Hogwarts really needed physical education classes—_never mind that_; she didn't want to be the one attending them, anyways. "Do you like Snivellus?" the boy asked.

The question led to Sirius visibly pale at the notion and he grabbed the crook of her elbow to gather her attention. "Prongs was just joking, right?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Not that it's any of your business who I like or don't, but if you _must_ know, James was just being an arse."

James placed his hand on his chest, wailing dramatically at her words, but she chose to continue, instead. "You already know I'm going on a date with Diggory, this week," she pointed out and Sirius frowned, letting go of her arm.

"Now that you remind me . . ."

Hermione immediately noticed the gleam in his eyes, and she thought to stop whatever idea he had in mind, but he interrupted her, "There's something I must deal with before lunch. Now, if you'll excuse me, Cub."

With a swish of robes that reminded her of Snape—not that she'll ever tell him—he walked away, and her best friends gave her nervous smiles before following him.

They looked like a group of ducklings, she decided solemnly.

"What was that about?" Marlene asked curiously once they met up again.

"Idiots being idiots," she muttered under her breath, and her friend nodded in understanding.

Her stomach grumbled loudly and the two shared a laugh before making their way to the Great Hall. If she wanted her brain to work properly for the next few days, she must satisfy her hunger first.

As they entered the large hall, she noticed Professor Dumbledore glance at her with interest, but she ignored his stare. She was still quite upset at the turn of events, and he hadn't been providing her with much assistance in dealing with this Dark Lord that she was supposedly assigned to defeat.

He was treating her as if she was the _Chosen One_, and Hermione swore she heard a snort coming from her mind.

Realizing that Granger must be laughing at her, she scowled darkly at the woman.

She shook her head slightly and gazed upon the Hufflepuff table before passing by it. Diggory was missing and she was surprised over the disappointment that she felt wash over her.

She was getting quite attached to the smiles they'd shared during meals and even classes. Marlene had continued to tease her relentlessly, and she didn't fail to do so at the moment, as well.

The blonde nudged her shoulder and grinned wickedly. "Are you missing your lover boy?"

Hermione bit her lip but didn't argue. Perhaps, she _was_. She briefly looked over to the Slytherin table and her heart ached when she failed to catch Regulus's eye. She sighed heavily and walked to the end of the room.

As she sat on her designated spot and Marlene joined her, she filled her plate with lamb chops and a few chocolate eclairs, knowing Remus will be taking them all, once he joined them.

She ate in silence, lost in thought about what the boys must be doing at the moment, when an owl let out a piercing shriek to announce its presence in the Great Hall.

Everyone remained unfazed, used to the arrival of mail at different times of the day, but she was surprised when it flew in her direction. The eagle owl stopped in front of her and gracefully fluttered its dark grey wings, resting on the table. It appeared to be carrying a letter, which fell closely by her plate.

"Who's that from?" a voice asked from behind and she jumped, glaring at Sirius as he seated himself down next to her.

"I don't know," she answered and hesitantly picked it up. She wasn't used to getting much mail. This year, she'd subscribed to the delivery of the Daily Prophet every morning, but that was it.

Her family only sent a couple of letters to complain about her behaviour, so it _could_ be from Walburga, but she was proven wrong, when she noticed a different family crest printed on the envelope.

It bore black, green and silver colours, as well as images of several serpentine creatures. '_Sanctimonia Vincet Semper'_ was inscribed on a silver banner, along with a giant _'M'_. Realization instantly dawned on her, and she chastised herself for forgetting what their owl looked like - the _Malfoys_' owl.

Despite the huge disaster that the Christmas dinner had been in her first year, Abraxas had proceeded to send at least one letter every year. Of course, she'd often conceded to his attempts of having a debate with her – with a clear intent of winning, _especially_ when he mentioned house elves.

If that was the case, they both wrote back and forth, debating on the creatures' rights.

Hermione didn't remember being sent anything ever since last year, once Lucius Malfoy had gotten engaged to her cousin, Narcissa. She'd smirked at the fact, knowing the patriarch was disappointed over being unable to gain an inquisitive mind in his family.

Her cousin was still way better than Bellatrix and perhaps, it was due to her interest in proper manners, rather than power.

Regardless, she hadn't been expecting to be contacted by the old man again. "Must be very bored," she muttered under her breath as she opened the seal of the envelope and took out the letter.

Sirius snorted but kept a grave look on his face, as he'd been very sensitive when it came to her talking to Abraxas Malfoy - often reminding her of how dangerous it would be if she angered the supposedly Dark wizard any further.

Hermione suspected his behaviour had something to do with the punishment she'd received afterwards by her parents, but didn't voice it. They'd promised to each other not to mention stuff like that, unless necessary.

And even if he _was_ somehow correct, she highly doubted the blond, aging man would be truly dangerous. Not compared to her family, anyways. She thought the most he'd do was threaten her but had a feeling that he had softened up to her too much to even do _that_.

Still, she froze when she read the contents and her eyes widened comically. Her brother must've noticed because he broke through her internal panicking. "What? What does it say, Hermione?"

"He wants me to come see him right now," she replied, still feeling a little stunned.

What surprised her the most were two unusual words, written separately yet they instantly caught her attention altogether.

_Urgent. Please._

"No. Absolutely not," Sirius refused through gritted teeth, and she looked at him in disbelief.

"And who are you to decide that?" she argued, a defensive note bleeding into her voice. She noticed the sharp look in his eyes and almost backed down, but _no_. If he was a Black, she was one, too.

He gripped the handle of the spoon tightly and scowled at her. "Hermione, this isn't a matter of your _pride_. This is dangerous and I'm not letting you go there again."

She softened slightly and placed her hand on top of his larger one, his knuckles now white as he clenched his hand.

"Sirius," she whispered gently as though it could calm him down. "Look at what he wrote! He made it sound so urgent. He even said 'please'. You, of all people, know how hard that is for Pureblood men."

He wrenched his hand away from her grasp and stood at an instant, ignoring the wounded look in her eyes. "_No_. You will not go."

She rose from her seat as well, facing him with just as much of a determined look. "I will go," she insisted stubbornly.

Goblets around their table began to vibrate loudly, and she could hear Professor McGonagall make her way towards them, with the intent of stopping the incidental magic caused due to the twins' bond and temper.

It didn't happen often, but the professor was aware it was them.

For once, Hermione paid her no mind. Instead, she grabbed her bag in haste and stalked off, not noticing another set of grey eyes that followed her movements from the Slytherin table.

She'd already memorized all the secret entrances anyways, so she was in no need of the Marauder's Map. She wasted no time, aware that the Head of Gryffindor would scold Sirius first, before either of them could look for her.

After passing by the passage behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy, she looked around Hogsmeade, noting how much less crowded it looked, compared to the weekends. She called out Kreacher's name before anyone could notice her.

"Blood traitor Mistress called for Kreacher. Kreacher lives to serve the House of Black," he announced in a sulking voice. Despite her being much taller, he somehow still managed to look down at her, glaring at her through bloodshot eyes and his bulbous nose.

She ignored his name calling. Instead, she sported a tone similar to her mother's and ordered, "Take me to Malfoy Manor - _please_." She couldn't help it. She just _wasn't_ Walburga Black.

Kreacher grumpily fisted the sleeve of her robes with one small hand, snapping his fingers with the other and disapparating them with a _'pop'_.

Just as her feet touched the grass of the large manor's grounds, she opened her eyes and found the house elf no longer by her side. Clearly, he detested her presence as much as her parents and little brother did.

Another pale house elf appeared in front of her, looking up at her with large, green eyes. "Dobby welcomes Miss. How may Dobby help?"

Hermione gave him a gentle smile. "Hello, Dobby. Abraxas Malfoy called me here. Could you tell me where he is, please?" she asked softly, noting the astonishment his face bore. _This_ was why she insisted they must be treated well.

Pureblood wizards and witches were forgetting their place!

Dobby broke through her internal rambling as he opened the tall door standing in front of them. They entered through the large entrance and she noted that the manor looked similar to how it had five years ago.

She swallowed down the bad memories and the headache that accompanied the place, following Dobby with a patient pace, instead.

After several minutes, they faced yet another door, this time on the second floor. As he opened it quietly, her lips parted on a breath and for a moment she doubted she'd seen everything right. Hermione walked towards the chair set near the bed, sitting on it quietly.

Abraxas Malfoy lay there, an unusual ill, pale colour on his face. Despite talking to each other for so many years, this was the second time she was seeing him, and he looked mighty different from the first time.

He no longer held an air of arrogance around him and looked rather sick and fatigued.

Hermione wasn't quite sure on how to feel or what to even say to him. She didn't find it appropriate to lie to the wizard and look sorry at his poor state of health.

_Don't lie_, a voice that sounded much like Remus chided gently, _you do feel saddened_.

A couple of seconds passed before Abraxas finally craned his neck to look at her and sat up with trembling arms. She gave him a small smile, sure it turned out to resemble a grimace, instead.

She didn't think he minded as he surprisingly smiled back with much more genuine enthusiasm. "Miss Black," he greeted her, his voice too hoarse to be coming out of a noble man like him.

She grunted, too stubborn to open her mouth and not trusting her voice at the moment.

Perhaps, she _did_ respect him, for still talking to her all these years when her father didn't. Perhaps, he _had_ become a distant father figure for her. She was a known blood traitor among all Purebloods like him, and for some strange reason, he had never seemed to care.

"I'm afraid you're in danger," he announced unexpectedly, skipping any pleasantries, and she almost laughed out loud at that.

How _typical_ of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you like it. This one is much longer than usual!


	21. Pumpkin Juice

**November, 1975.**

It took Hermione five beats of her heart for his words to sink in. Words lodged in her mouth, unable to fathom what she wanted to say.

"What's wrong with _you?_" she asked after a moment, uncertain.

Abraxas gave her an disbelieving look. "I'm sick, but that is not what I'm asking you to focus on. Hermione I need you to take this seriously."

"Why do you even care?"

There was a pause, and silence stretched between them once more. "Despite you not having any relation with my son, I _do_ still consider you a daughter of mine," he finally announced, and she scoffed loudly in disbelief.

"I'm a blood traitor," she reminded him, observing how he flinched slightly at the name. Her brows knitted together in confusion at his reaction, as she was sure this was supposed to be a blood purist laying in front of her, though he now resembled someone who - well, _wasn't_ one.

"I don't care - not about your status, anyways. What I do care about is you and your brilliant mind. I admit I used to be a vile man, and I had ulterior motives when I first contacted you," he admitted, dragging his eyes away from her when she felt her face contort in mortification.

Deep down, she'd hoped that he had actually just wanted to reach out to her—

"But," he proceeded to continue, when he seemed to realize where her train of thought was going, "I soon realized that no matter what your status may be in this Wizarding world, you are absolutely _brilliant_. I checked on this Muggleborn you'd talked about, Miss Evans, and I found that you were right. She is just as intelligent as you, if not _a bit _less, of course."

Hermione allowed a small, stunned smile to seep through her lips. She'd really succeeded in finally changing at least one mind, and pride burst alive deep in her bones at the thought. "I admit I care about you as well, Sir."

She grinned at his own shock, who had probably never expected her to address him with respect, unless it was to mock him. "I do hope you don't misunderstand being considered an experiment to me."

The wizard shook his head with a fond smile. "Of course not. Otherwise, I believe you'd have given up on me a long time ago." Then, he expelled a loud sigh, and she finally thought back to his words.

"Why do you say I'm in danger?" she asked hesitantly. A part of her already knew why, but she wanted to know what _he_ had come to know.

"What is _she_ doing here, Father?" an outraged voice called from the doorway, poison spewing from the tone, and she jumped in her seat, startled as she looked back at Lucius Malfoy.

"Lucius, I called her here," Abraxas replied in a calm, yet firm tone, and Malfoy's nostrils flared as he made his way to the other side of the bed, not sparing her another glance as he seethed.

"I was about to say—" Abraxas began but she felt the need to cut him off, eyeing the addition in the room with distrust.

"Do you think it's safe for him to hear this?" she asked him, pointedly staring at Malfoy's despicable sneer.

"He is the reason why I was able to find out about this," he assured her, and she reluctantly settled back in her seat.

"A few months ago, my son was approached by the Dark Lord that you may have already heard about . . . I am afraid to say that Lucius had joined his cause behind my back."

A loud gasp tore out of her mouth, her stomach rolling and acid burning the back of her throat with fear, but Abraxas immediately stopped her before she could reach for her wand.

"Now, I understand why you might feel unsafe but I assure you, Lucius is no longer faithful to him," he insisted, and she sent him a critical eye for how calm he sounded in such a situation.

However, Hermione didn't sit back down, her eyes flicking towards Malfoy once again, before she looked back at the sickly man. "And how do you know he isn't lying?"

"Because he came to me a few days ago, confessing to have heard a Prophecy about the Dark Lord. Before you start mentioning the flaws of Divination, I _must_ inform you that it came from a special Seer with the name of Trelawny."

She reluctantly nodded, when the subtle ache in her head reminded her of her own Seer-like abilities. "What did the Prophecy say?"

There was the stirring of tension in the air and this time, it was his son that spoke up:

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches . . . living to betray the kind he believes in, born years ago, twenty one days after a new year . . . and the Dark Lord is marked as their equal, but the saviour has power the Dark Lord knows not . . . and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives . . . the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord was born as a new year began . . ."

_Oh_. It felt as if a bludger had punched the air from her lungs and she held her trembling hands together, allowing herself a moment to calm down before she could think more about what was expected of _her_.

"And you think this is about me?" she asked slowly, her voice strained.

Lucius scoffed loudly. "Do you really not understand, or are you just desperate enough to not see it?"

She stood up abruptly, seething at his attitude. "Excuse me, if I'm acting this way after finding out that I bloody _die_, if I don't kill _your_ Dark Lord."

Without giving him a chance to reply, she turned to his father. The sad sheen in his eyes informed her of the answer, and her throat clicked wetly. "Is that all? What do you want from me?"

"Hermione," he began in a gentle tone that almost caused her internal dam to break - to beg him to save her like a father would. Instead, she suppressed the burn in her eyes and waited for him to continue.

"I intend on keeping you safe for as long as I can. I'm afraid I do not have much time," he admitted, and her attention immediately went to how much paler his skin looked.

There was a sense of uneasiness that stirred and thickened every second. "What's wrong with you?" she repeated her question from earlier, her voice breaking.

"The Healers are unable to detect any illness, but . . ." he trailed off and she assumed what he wanted to say.

_He was going to die._

"I need to go," she announced and before either could stop her, she clung onto her bag and ran out of the room — hurrying to get away from the dying wizard, the awful manor and the Prophecy that followed her at every step.

* * *

Hermione used the same method she'd chosen previously to get back to Hogwarts, though this time she entered through the Honeydukes cellar. She slid down the hidden passageway, greeted by the one-eyed witch's statue. "_Tempus_," she murmured and realized she'd been away for more than an hour.

She descended the stairs quietly, shuffling on her feet to head to left, when someone tapped on her shoulder. She swirled around to find Benjy, who was looking over her head carefully. Before she could turn around to check, he placed a finger on top of his lips and gestured for her to follow him.

He led her away from the spot, and they both leaned against a wall, the Ravenclaw checking around the corner briefly, before he turned to look at her properly.

"Your brother was looking for you, and I thought you might not want to see him," he explained with a small smile, and she sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Benjy," she told him with a tight smile that promptly slipped off. If he'd noticed the change in her mood, he didn't mention it.

Instead, he bowed dramatically like the Marauders usually did. "You owe me." She nodded mutely, still lost in thought when he spoke up again, "_Maybe_ . . . you should talk to him."

"Who?"

"Your brother," he clarified softly. "He looked genuinely concerned. Really, you should go talk to him personally before he finds you."

She went to protest, but he shook his head firmly as he forced her to consider the idea. Shifting from one foot to another, she decided he was right. Hermione had to tell her brother what was going on anyways, and had she been in his place, she'd have been worried to death.

She didn't have to tell Benjy that he was correct, as he instantly read her expression and smiled triumphantly. "Now, you better go," he told her rather cheerfully.

* * *

"Hey," she said nervously and wrung her hands nervously, when he immediately turned around to face her. He was wearing a tight, angry expression, and she resisted the urge to dig herself into a hole when she felt the distance between them creeping in.

"You shouldn't have gone," he said quietly, his anger leaking in cold and sharp.

"He said he's dying, Sirius."

A heavy sigh and then, his eyes softened a little as he asked, "What happened to him?"

"No one knows what's wrong with him," she choked out with a frown, her brows knitted together. "But he knows he's dying, and he wanted to tell me something important as soon as possible."

"What did he tell you, Cub?" he asked uneasily, his worried gaze sweeping over her face.

Hermione proceeded to tell him of everything that had occurred at Malfoy manor. She had to physically restrain him from going after Malfoy, until she told him that it was the Death Eater that had told Abraxas.

As she finished saying the last words of the Prophecy, shameless tears glittered in his eyes and he clutched her body as hoarse sobs wrenched out of her mouth.

"I don't want to die," she admitted in a small voice and when his hold on her tightened, she clung to the comfort as though it was the last time she would ever get it.

Only after the sun went down, did Sirius reach his hand out to wipe away both of their tear streaked faces, rising from the floor and forcing her up. "Come on. We need to tell Dumbledore," he insisted.

She nodded as she knew the Headmaster was the only one who could help her.

* * *

Hermione was proven wrong when all Professor Dumbledore said was, "I must say I'm surprised that the unconscious still hasn't unlocked itself."

"Is this all you're choosing to focus on?" Sirius demanded loudly, his leg bouncing nervously as he glared at the Headmaster.

The twinkle in the older wizard's eyes dimmed slightly and he hung his head in what seemed to be shame. "I apologize for being inconsiderate, Mr. Black. I admit, certain feelings took over."

She felt Sirius relax in his seat and she did the same. "What do you think about all this, Professor?"

He turned to look at her, his lips set into a grim line. "I'm afraid we must continue to wait for clues before we know how to defeat him."

"Continue with your Occlumency lessons and I insist you make sure not to attract any more attention. Perhaps, it is best if you cease contact with Abraxas Malfoy, immediately."

Hermione remained quiet, unable to agree to his order just yet.

.

"Fuck everything," Sirius muttered in frustration, his back to the Gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office.

Hermione made a noise of agreement and he smiled sadly when he looked at her. After he waved his wand around the both of them, she gave him a questioning look.

"I hid the signs of us crying," he told her with a grimace and she nodded mutely. She hadn't thought about their bloodshot eyes and their Headmaster hadn't cared to mention anything about them.

It was then, that she caught a glimpse of the boys coming their way from the end of the corridor. She elbowed her brother lightly and he seemed to have noticed them too, because he led her closer to the group.

Once they met midway, Remus eyed them in concern. "Did the Headmaster call you down again?"

"Yes," she lied quickly before Sirius could say otherwise.

"Told us to stop fighting, he did," her twin said, expelling a loud sigh, and he continued to look like he'd been thoroughly scolded.

"Well, _yeah_. He's right," said James and she eyed him curiously for saying something so sensible. "Lily-flower was complaining about not being able to drink pumpkin juice at lunch because of you two."

"I don't give a flying fuck about—" spit out Sirius angrily, but she squeezed his arm to stop him from saying something he would come to regret "—pumpkin juice. Listen, we had a bad fight but it's over, _and_ we're tired. Can we leave it to that?"

James narrowed his eyes but nodded slowly. "Alright. I asked Goldstein out and we're planning to meet at Flourish and Blotts because Evans likes books and . . ."

Many things were changing, she thought, but surely James's love for Lily Evans will stay the same, at the very least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think one thing that was affected by her being a Muggleborn, was Hermione's unwavering trust in Dumbledore. When he asked her and Ron not to write to Harry during the summer, despite knowing how badly he needed to hear from them, she didn't go against his orders because like I said, she was new to the Wizarding World and Dumbledore became like a God for both Hermione and Harry. 
> 
> On the other hand, Hermione Black grew up as a Pureblood and being friends with the Marauders also affected her belief in the Headmaster and following rules. Canon Sirius was quick to complain about the decisions taken by the Order and since she's now his twin, a part of her is allowed to question the Most Powerful Wizard's behaviour and orders.


	22. Honeydukes and Snogging

**November, 1975.**

"Dumbledore called me down yesterday," Snape told her as soon as Hermione joined him at their table.

She merely quirked her brow and sat down, expelling a tired sigh. Her eyes felt unusually heavy, as she had barely slept through the night—something she rarely did, anyways, but last night proved to affect her more than usual.

Snape continued to look at her curiously, though he tried to hide it rather well. "He told me to hurry with the lessons. I wonder . . . what _danger_ you must've gotten yourself into."

"That is none of your business. Can we get on with the lesson, please?" she asked in a bored tone and his eyes widened slightly. He quickly composed himself with a purse of his lips and obliged.

.

After the lesson, Hermione spent the rest of Saturday morning in front of the bathroom mirror, pulling her hair into a loose ponytail. She'd put a light Make-Up Spell on, deciding that it would be appropriate not to put a bit of effort, considering Amos had personally asked her out.

It was only when she went back to the shared dorm with the boys that a strangled noise caught her attention. She turned to look at James, a questioning look on her face, which went unnoticed as the boy's eyes pinned on her jeans.

"What?" she asked, consciously tugging on the hem of her blue sweater.

As he raked a hand through his messy curls, he finally turned to look at her incredulously. "Why—" he stopped to clear his throat, "—do those look so _tight?_"

She grabbed the top of her black jeans and pulled them even higher, showing how comfortable they felt against her skin. "They seem fine to me," she argued, rolling her eyes at the tips of his ears that continued to redden.

Remus peeked inside, a curious gaze darting between the two. "Hermione! Err—lover boy is downstairs. I thought you might want to hurry before Sirius threatens him again."

"Alright," she said, making sure she had her wand as she approached her best friend. "And what do you mean _'again'_?"

Remus acted as though he hadn't heard the question, patting her on the back as they descended the stairs and stood in between a wary Sirius and an uncomfortable Amos.

"_Uh_," she said as she looked at the two boys, unsure on what to say. "Shall we go?"

The Hufflepuff stopped squirming under Sirius's glower and turned to look at her, his gaze sweeping from head to toe, clearly checking her out. "You look beautiful," he told her with a wink, his smile broadening when heat crept through her face.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she replied easily, noting how the black shirt he wore clung subtly to his muscles, and his own cheeks had turned pink once they got off the carriages and with a shiver, the cold breeze followed them close behind.

His hand twitched and she reached out to clasp it, biting down a fond smile at the grin that appeared on his face.

"Where do you want to go first?" she asked after a couple of beats. She couldn't deny that despite still not knowing each other too well, the silence that often descended upon them felt comfortable.

"How about Honeydukes first?" he prompted, and she hummed in agreement.

The sweet shop was swarmed with students, but they managed not to get lost in the crowd as he held onto her hand tightly. They wandered down the shelves and she noticed how his eyes lightened up slightly more when he found certain sweets.

"Which ones do you like the most?"

"Blood-flavoured Lollipops." He grinned down at her, the lopsided, wide smile sending jolts through her body.

"Of course. You _do_ look like a pretty vampire," with the words out, she covered her face, appalled as she realized what she'd just said

He chuckled lowly and gave her a wicked smile. "I don't know about looking like one, but the romance is surely guaranteed."

He reached up to pull her hands away, and he swept a lock of her hair behind her ear, brushing her cheek with his thumb as he did so. Hesitantly, he cupped her face and she leaned into his touch. He was close enough now that she could feel his breath, hot against her lips.

Amos shifted forward slightly, his mouth was now against hers with a gentle press, and she found herself wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him back just as eagerly. They pulled back ever so quickly to catch their breath, and she couldn't help but stare at his red, plump lips. _She_ had done that, she realized.

Only when someone bumped into them, did they both remember about where they were, and shared a sheepish smile. They proceeded to pay for the sweets that they'd grabbed and when once they exited the shop, she turned back around to look at him.

"That was . . ."

"_Yes_," he breathed out, and the awkwardness vanished once they both began to laugh at each other.

"I think we need to have some Butterbeer," she suggested, her smile wide as she walked with her arm casually looped through his. As soon as they slipped inside, Madame Rosmerta's voice rang around the room, and Amos made his way to the back of the room, where she assumed he usually sat.

Once she settled in her seat and set down their bags, Amos left to get them some drinks, and she took the chance to look around the pub, hoping to catch at least a glimpse of her best friends.

She'd almost given up as she failed to see any of them, until she caught the familiar sight of untidy hair. She half-rose from her seat and looked at a much smaller girl that sat in front of him. It turned out Goldstein was half James's height, and Sirius had obviously not considered that a problem when he snogged her or . . . whatever they did together.

Hermione sat back down and smiled once Amos came back with two glasses of hot Butterbeer. She gratefully took one and expelled a satisfied sigh as she sipped onto the foaming, hot drink.

She decided—as she peered at him, sporting a foam moustache, and laughing back at her own—that she _really_ liked Amos.

* * *

When Hermione entered the dorm quietly and found herself facing the boys, she admitted she was too tired to deal with them. She'd already shared all the details with Marlene, who had started squealing in delight at the news of Hermione finally dating someone.

So, she merely blinked at them, sagging in relief when they didn't immediately demand for every single piece of information. As if she would tell her brother that she snogged Amos in the middle of Honeydukes, anyways.

"I know you snogged Amos in the middle of Honeydukes," Sirius blurted out and she bit her lip to stop herself from accusing him of using Legilimency.

She balked. "Oh?"

"Yes."

Remus cleared his throat and she sent him an imploring look, sitting down on her bed and joining their gossip group. He caught her expression and ran a hand through his sandy hair in frustration.

"James, why don't you tell us about what happened with your date?" he prompted, shooting her a dirty look. _Gossip group, indeed._

James seemed to be in a daze, because only a pillow thrown at him from across the room brought him back to his senses. "Yes, yes. Er - she understood my situation and was very good at acting, _yes_."

"Did she kiss you?" Sirius asked with a glint in his grey eyes, probably thinking back to his own kiss with her.

"She did," James shifted in discomfort at that, "I didn't see it coming - she just _planted_ her lips on top of mine. When I saw Lily from the corner of my eyes, I was like 'Oh, _that's_ why.'"

Hermione quirked a brow. "Did Lily show any reaction?"

James's face brightened immediately, and he nodded vigorously. "Oh, Cub! You should've seen her face. She didn't even call me a toe rag when I saw in the Common Room later."

Sirius cheered winningly. "Told you it'd work—"

"—along with acting mature," she added with a pointed look. "Marlene told me that Lily has started actually talking about you in the girls' dorm, instead of just grumbling—" she stopped abruptly when she saw his eyes roll back and slump against his pillow.

She blinked. "Is he alright?"

* * *

**December, 1975.**

The lesson where Snape had mentioned his meeting with Dumbledore had ended heavily, accompanied by many others in the following weeks. Soon enough, it was the last day before the holidays and he'd decided it would be a good idea to meet on a Hogsmeade weekend.

"You made me miss my date with Amos," she grumbled, announcing her presence as she sat down at their table.

Snape's face twisted into a sneer. "You two spend enough time attached to each other."

Her cheeks reddened slightly because truth was that he _was_ right. Ever since they'd started dating, Amos had begun walking her to classes whenever he could, and when they weren't studying together, they were kissing in hidden corners of the castle. It had barely been a full month and he was acting like he was _courting_ her. Clearly, she needed to discuss his Pureblood ways.

Hermione admitted that she still felt mortified whenever they got caught, but Amos managed to somehow convince her it was normal and drag her to snog in some other place.

She cleared her throat before her mind could go wandering to the intimacy they shared.

"Perhaps, we should stop discussing my love life and unless you want me to mention the lack of one for _you_, let's start with the lesson," she countered, her face splitting into a grin at his affronted look.

The Slytherin had started displaying much more emotion around her, even going as far as teasing her. Once, she had to reassure Amos that Snape didn't like her, after he'd heard some rumours. Who would've thought Hufflepuffs could also be jealous?

She didn't notice her tutor locking his gaze with her own, what she _did_ focus on was instantly raising her walls and not allowing him to enter her mind. They spent half an hour like that; her reading a book distractedly but keeping her walls in place with a smug smile, as he continued to silently cast Legilimency on her several times.

It was supposed to be their last lesson before Dumbledore would check her progress properly, so she pressed for Snape to shake her hand. "Owl me during the holidays."

If he was surprised at the offer, he didn't show it. Instead, he set his lips into a grim line. "Try not to get yourself killed, Black."

"Same goes for you, _Severus_." She forced her face to remain straight, though the corners of her lips twitched as he walked away.

.

Hermione entered the Great Hall, excited to finally eat more than just chocolate, and she was surprised to see the boys at the table.

Her brows flew high in disbelief as she approached them and asked, "What are you guys doing here?"

Remus shrugged carefully, flinching at the pain as he did so. The full moon was taking a toll on her best friend and she was somehow grateful it was tonight, as she knew his dad would never allow him to spend it at Potter Manor just yet.

She set up a cup of tea for him, promptly giving it to him. She didn't notice Sirius holding a letter until she felt a surge of nerves under the bond. She found him slumped against the seat, an envelope quickly forcing its way on top of the table as it slipped from his hand.

Hermione pursed her lips when she read the taunting words _'Toujours Pur'_. She wondered what they'd done this time and from his expression, she assumed Sirius had the answer. She willed herself to stop from setting the paper on fire, instead slipping the letter between her fingers to read it.

_You will join us at Grimmauld for Yule and if you fail to do so, you will regret it immensely._

"I guess no Potter Manor for this year," she muttered, though she already knew that due to Dumbledore's suggestions. Another note caught her attention, and she checked to see if anyone had seen it, before quickly flipping it over.

_Don't go._

Hermione focused on the meaning, ignoring the nagging feeling that told her how she should be able to recognize the elegant handwriting.

* * *

"I must say, Hermione. I am very proud of you, for taking the lessons so seriously. Your Occlumency walls are unbreakable," said the Headmaster, and Hermione preened under the praise.

She admitted that no matter how strenuous, the lessons were worth it when she thought of the end result. She felt somewhat reassured, knowing that if she were to face Voldemort one day, she wouldn't be spilling each one of her secrets.

"Thank you, Professor. I was going to remind you that I am being called home from Yule, so I won't be able to show you my journal over the holidays."

"Ah yes," he said as he nodded in understanding. "Do be careful, Hermione. Aurors are speculating the Black family's role in this growing war, and it isn't in favour of the Light side."

It had certainly been news to her, but she hadn't been entirely surprised. If she were to take one single look at Bellatrix, she would know her cousin probably kissed her Dark Lord's feet for killing Muggleborns.

.

Hermione had been walking away from the Headmaster's office, and she wobbled unsteadily as cold fingers wrapped around her wrist to steady her.

"Reg?" she whispered, uncertain of the boy that stood before her, his grey eyes finally meeting hers in an unwavering gaze.

"I thought I told you not to call me that," he said, his voice strained.

"Right." She scoffed loudly and wrenched out of his hold. "If that's all you're going to say—"

"Why are you talking to Severus?"

Her brows scrunched, she pressed her lips in a tight line. "What are you talking about?"

"Severus. You shouldn't talk to him," he told her slowly, his jaw set.

"And why is that?" she asked carefully, spotting what she thought was hesitation.

"Just don't—I don't want blood traitors like you to _muddle_ my House," he replied with that tart look that suggested she'd asked a stupid question—hurrying to move away from her.

Irritation ran prickly beneath her skin and she urged herself to remember that at least, Abraxas Malfoy, of all people, didn't care about her beliefs.

"Too bad Severus is now my friend," she lied stiffly. "So, you'll just have to re-learn how to share, Reggie." Then, she surveyed him with a scrutinizing stare. "What will you do if I muddle Grimmauld, too?"

"You're coming?" he asked, an off note buried in his smooth voice.

She noticed the dismayed look on his face, and it was clear that the conversation would go nowhere, So, even though she'd waited for so long to talk to her little brother, she knew it'd be best if she would just hurry and join the boys before the full moon appeared.

_Perhaps some people just cannot be saved_, she thought but refrained from telling Regulus that. "Yes," she replied flatly. "Now if you'll excuse me, my _best friends_ are waiting for me."

Not bothering to wait for a response, as his look of loathing was just enough, she turned on her heels and this time, she was the one to walk away.


	23. Rumors and Visions

**December, 1975.**

"Or you could come home after Yule."

Hermione sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time and it was only just morning—or well, the end of it, anyways. Amos had all but dragged her away to an empty compartment, and she'd been surprised when he insisted that she must meet his parents.

After she'd told him _repeatedly_ that she absolutely had to go to Grimmauld this year, he'd become a brooding mess.

"Amos," she called gently, "I can try to come, but I can't guarantee you I will."

"Perhaps, I can talk to Lord Black? I am sure he would be delighted to meet my Father," he said, almost begging at this point, and she felt a frown tug at the corners of her lips.

She rubbed her temples and smiled weakly. "Amos, you don't _understand_." She looked away from his defeated look, but his fingers gently grasped her chin, and she was once again facing him.

"Why don't you help me?" he pried, ignoring the way her body tensed.

"I can't—you wouldn't understand what my parents are like," she protested, her voice exhausted and her head whirling around the memories of punishments and—

"It's not like you've said anything that would make me understand what goes on with you," he muttered bitterly, and she was faced with the harsh reality of relationships and communication.

In retrospect, it was stupid of her not to realize that she'd have to eventually talk to him about it. It had been many years and her best friends had never once asked her to talk about her parents. She'd suspected Sirius was behind it, but _still _– their silence had meant a lot to her, and she hadn't even thought about having to tell anyone else, let alone a _boyfriend_.

"I'm not ready yet," she hissed decisively. Dating for a month or two wouldn't make her exactly comfortable with confessing how cruel the Blacks were.

He hung his head in defeat as he ran a hand through his hair. She could feel the tension starting to crackle around the room and wanted nothing more than to crawl back to her boys.

"Just like you haven't been ready for anything." His voice was controlled and a bit strained, and she could tell that he was clearly trying not to shout at her. "I wonder if you've shared _everything_ with the boys," he challenged with an undecipherable look on his face.

"I didn't have to tell them, Amos. They never _asked_," she explained, her irritation spiking gradually. "They've always been understanding. Unlike my parents."

Hermione ignored the scowl he sent her. She never understood why her boyfriend seemed to worship her parents so much, when they hadn't done anything to deserve such a sentiment. "I don't know why you respect them so much. They've always been terrible to my friends."

"Well, I don't _blame_ them," he mumbled under his breath, and had it not been for her Animagus hearing, she wouldn't have heard him.

She blinked, momentarily taken aback with the change in the conversation. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean—Potter and Pettigrew are _fine_, but Lupin has something sketchy going on with him . . . there's been _rumours_."

"And you judged him, based on the rumours," she deadpanned, her lips thinning.

"They're pretty ridiculous. They talk about him being a—"

A knock interrupted him before he could continue, and she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as though it could diminish the mounting tension in the room. She held his hand, intertwining her fingers with his own and cupping his face with her other.

She could feel the heat radiating from under the small growing hair on the skin. "Please, Amos. Just let this go—at least, until we come back from the holidays." She moved her hand away to peck him on the cheek, and she let her head rest slowly on his shoulder.

"Do you promise to come home for one day, at least?"

The words died down in her throat, and she managed a small nod.

"If you're done snogging, give me back my sister," a familiar voice called from the other side of the door and she rolled her eyes.

Amos's body shook with laughter, and she moved back to see the amused look on his face. "And here I thought you'd get scared," she teased.

She was once again facing the good-looking boy; with windswept hair and warm demeanour she'd grown to adore. Grateful for the change, she stood up and gave him one last kiss.

She slipped quietly out of the door, and Sirius's expression twisted with relief. Arching a brow, she asked, "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing. Let's just go back," he murmured, and she followed him, frankly baffled at his behaviour. He'd been cranky ever since she'd woken him up early to pack, but he should be used to it by now.

By the time they reached the far side of the train, she had finally noticed Remus and James having an intense argument. Their other friend sat by the window, his wide, blue eyes darting between the two nervously. Hermione sat next to the werewolf, who stopped whatever lecture he'd been giving.

"Well, get on with it. Tell me what happened," she addressed them flatly, already too tired of yet another tension in the room.

Her brother dragged a hand over his face, excruciatingly slow. She made a face, which he saw as he peered at her through his fingers, and he dropped the hand. "Prongs insinuated that I'm not a good brother."

Eyes widening slightly, she glanced over at James. He looked uncomfortable and as he scratched the back of his head, he sent her a sheepish look. She looked at him questioningly. "Why would you even think that?"

James opened his mouth to answer, but Remus beat him to it. "He thinks Padfoot shouldn't let you spend so much time with Diggory."

"_Padfoot_ knows better than to let me do anything," she said frankly, letting out a loud snort.

Sirius flung his arms out, as though to show James what he'd been explaining all along. In his defense, the bespectacled boy shrunk in his seat and mumbled an apology.

Rolling her eyes, she moved over her seat to pat the hand that rested on his lap. "Amos and I are doing perfectly fine, but the concern is appreciated."

"_Whatever_," James huffed, crossing his arms and looking out the window.

A comfortable silence descended upon them and Hermione didn't have much time to ponder over her best friend's strange behaviour. Her eyelids were starting to feel heavy and when she saw her brother looking at her anxiously, she frowned.

There had been times where she'd fallen asleep on the train and didn't have any nightmares. It wasn't as if her friends didn't already know about them, anyways. So—just as the rest of them gathered to play some silly games that she wasn't bothered to pay attention to—she made her way to Sirius's side, her twin allowing her head to fall on his shoulder.

Soon, darkness followed as her lids dropped and she let slumber take over.

* * *

_"Mr. Black, it's time for the reading of the Will," a goblin said. She remembered him from the few times she accompanied her parents to Gringotts, and she was sure he was supposed to be her family's personal confidant._

_Her brother jerked in his seat, a haunted look on his face. "I'm not doing this right now," he mumbled, his tone close to a whisper._

_"You must, Lord Black. You are the rightful Heir—"_

_"No, not without her!" Sirius bellowed, rising instantly from his seat and clenching his fists in scorching fury. The door opened and—_

Hermione could feel her shoulders shaking, and mumbling a few words incoherently, she tried passionately to go back to the vision to finish it – to find the fulfilment that she was missing.

_Why had Sirius looked so angry?_

Peering at him through her thick lashes, she found him looking down at her with an upset look. She immediately straightened in her seat and her eyes widened. "What's wrong?"

"My Chocolate Frog got stuck in your hair!"

She scowled in disbelief, her hand just itching to push her wand against his stomach. He must've noticed the movement because he hastily added, "And we've arrived."

Pursing her lips, she stood on her feet—her limbs still somewhat half-asleep, and she lazily moved out of the compartment, following the boys out.

Her chest still felt heavy from the vision, and while her head didn't hurt as much as it usually would, she was unsure whether to her brother about what she'd seen. Professor Dumbledore had stated her that the gift of Sight must not be taken advantage of.

Hermione didn't even bother considering it a gift. Not unless it showed Voldemort's defeat, or the unconscious in her mind unlocked. The last thing she'd heard from Granger was a mere, condescending snort, which had been more upsetting than helpful.

Soon, she was standing in the middle of families as they reunited delightfully, merrily wishing each other a happy Yule. She stopped herself from grabbing Sirius and forcing Dorea to take them home, to Potter Manor.

She felt long, warm fingers around her wrist and her gaze shot up at James, who was dragging her away from the train.

"James, did we not tell you that Mother—"

She stopped when she found herself in a warm embrace. She breathed into the motherly scent that she'd never gotten from Walburga, and when the older woman let go of her, a warm smile spread across her face. "Mrs. Potter!" she greeted happily.

The older witch narrowed her eyes, a small smile of her own playing at her lips. "How many times have I told you to stop making me feel old?"

Sirius appeared by Hermione's side, and his face split into a wicked grin. "You? _Old?_—"

"—_Never!_" Hermione finished enthusiastically.

James looked disturbed at the twins' telepathy, while Charlus chuckled in amusement. "I'm starting to wish we had twins of our own."

His wife waved a dismissive hand. "Charlus, these _are_ our twins."

Hermione expelled a content sigh, basking in the small moment of happiness before the holidays. She willed herself to stop lamenting, instead turning around to look for Regulus.

"Have you seen Reg?" she asked her brother, and he let out a displeased sound from the back of his throat.

"Must be holding onto Mother's skirt," he grumbled, and she nudged him lightly - a silent reminder not to say such things at home.

They bid their goodbyes to their best friends, walking to the opposite side of the platform, where wizards and witches were continuing to disapparate back home.

When she finally spotted her little brother, she curled her fingers around Sirius's elbow and tugged him to where he stood. It was then, that she finally noticed her mother, who had whiled around to look their way.

A scowl was etched on her face, when she expectedly let out a loud screech. "Scions of the House of Black wearing Muggle clothing! What a dishonour."

Her volume made a few faces turn their way, and Hermione noticed that even Amos had stopped to glance at her, as well. She looked back at Walburga and smirked inwardly.

_I'll show you a disgrace_, she thought as she practically skipped towards her boyfriend, ignoring _Lady Black's_ string of questions. She threw her arms around her boyfriend before launching into a full-on snogging session.

Ideally, she'd have never made such a public display of affection, but irritation had already started run prickly under her skin and she needed to let it go before they reached Grimmauld.

Eventually, they broke apart and breathed heavily, their lips plump, coloured in a scandalous red. "Hermione—_what?_" Amos spluttered and just as she was about to reply and tease him for leaving him speechless, she felt a familiar pull of apparition.

Her breathing hitched in panic as her feet landed, and she looked around frantically, relaxing only upon seeing Sirius.

"Have I taught you nothing, you disgraceful girl?! Wearing Muggle clothes, touching a Pureblood Heir in such ways! The disgraceful _creatures_ you call friends are turning you into a blood traitor!"

_So what, if she was?_

Sirius's hand on her shoulder weighed thick with meaning; no more reckless performances, they'd promised each other, and no more watching the other be reprimanded.

Hermione stayed silent—and while she didn't hang her head in shame, she still tightened her jaw and looked away. No matter who she may be, Walburga was supposed to be the woman who'd given birth to her.

What hopes could Hermione possibly have crushed, for her mother to decide to hex her five years old daughter?

_Oh_, what horror Walburga would feel, if Hermione were to tell her that she had a Muggleborn in her head all along. She shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts, and she turned her gaze on Regulus.

He shuffled his feet awkwardly, his arms crossed and eyes holding a certain disappointment at her. She ignored him, though brainwashed as he was, she still missed the times when she had pampered him and he'd shown admiration for her. He had always looked so proud to call her his sister.

When was the last time that had happened?

She gnawed on her bottom lip, interrupting her Mother as she asked, "Where's Father?"

Walburga stared down at her with a calculating gaze, glaring at her once more. "He's in his study," she said sharply, a challenging tone laid beneath her words, waiting like a hawk for Hermione to question whether he wanted to see his children.

_Of course not. _"Right," she drawled and sagged in defeat. She suddenly felt very exhausted, her emotions draining further than they ever had after an Occlumency lesson.

She turned to Sirius, whose eyes pointedly flicked to the staircase, and she got the silent message. They moved to head to their rooms, when they heard their Mother speak once more.

"You are to stay in your room, until I allow you to leave. Kreacher will bring your meals up."


	24. Muggle Models

**December, 1975.**

A tiny furrow was upon her brow as Hermione tried to concentrate on her Occlumency shields. Sirius sat on the end of the bed, flipping through a Quidditch magazine. He was giving her a silent treatment because, while _he_ could have posters of Muggle women in his room, she couldn't have the same but with men.

She felt utterly bored to tears, and since she wasn't allowed to visit the library, she'd decided to make herself useful and constantly go over the lessons she'd gone through at Hogwarts. It had eventually gotten repetitive and she sighed heavily, glancing back at her brother.

"You're being unreasonable," she told him, exasperated.

The little wizard growled and slumped even lower on the mattress.

She rolled her eyes at him. "What if I put up pictures of Amos, instead?" she questioned cheekily, and he finally met her eyes with his own wide, aghast gaze.

"No!" he burst out, shaking his head adamantly. "Never mind. You're right! Muggle models are way better - _yes_."

She pursed her lips but chose to ignore his conflicting behaviour. Sirius was truly one of a kind. Except, he had a twin, who somehow ended up being similar to him. Did that make _her_ one of a kind, as well?

Their stomachs grumbled simultaneously, upset at the slow hunger. They eyed each other warily, unsure if it would do them any good to ask Kreacher for an early dinner. It had been a few days since they had come to Grimmauld, and not once had anyone except for the house elf talked to them.

They had only left to go to the washroom and even for that, they had to sneak out sometimes. It was so unfair, when she thought of how they could've spent the holidays with James, instead of being held prisoner in their own house.

Sirius had never been good with authority, so he was taking the situation with much less tolerance and he was gradually becoming more agitated. It was only in the morning, that Kreacher had finally informed them something out of the ordinary. They were having dinner with Uncle Cygnus's family, along with another respectable wizard.

If that was what her family considered him, she highly doubted him to _really_ be of good repute. Though, the only exception would be Abraxas, a wizard she was starting to really miss.

"Dobby wouldn't let me starve like this," she muttered to herself and yet, Sirius had heard her and he gave her a puzzled look.

She sent him a sheepish smile, shifting in her seat slightly. "Abraxas's house elf," she explained slowly, and a shadow quickly passed on his face, his lips set into a grim line.

Hermione cast a quick _Tempus_, informing them it was just about time for everyone to arrive. She had been hoping Bellatrix would magically _vanish_ her plans on coming, but that was impossible. Why would she let go of an opportunity to mock Hermione?

She clearly remembered being forced to play with the Black sister, the older witch wearing a deranged smile whenever Hermione's features shifted in dread, her limbs trembling ever so slightly at the Dark aura Bellatrix emitted.

Of course, there were times where she had also jinxed her bushy hair as a kid, but the adults had always concluded it to be accidental magic. _What a load of rubbish._

"I'd love to prank Bella tonight," Sirius said, greatly disappointed, and she immediately shook her head.

"Nope," she told him, popping the _'p'_. "Special guest today."

Sirius nodded slowly, moving away from the bed, and standing up to fix his robes. It amazed her how a tiny, little Kreacher had been able to force a somewhat grown Sirius into dressing himself in anything Pureblood-ish.

She followed him too—twirling in her crimson, blood dress in front of the mirror—allowing an eerie feeling to rest into the back of her mind. She was starting to think she should know who was coming.

* * *

Hernione sat stiffly in her chair, fork gripped tightly and tempting enough to use it to claw out Bellatrix's eyes. She had barely spent an hour with these people, and she was already starting to have nasty thoughts.

The awful witch had chosen to sit in front of Sirius, while Hermione was forced to face the elegant stranger that they'd brought from home . . . or _wherever_. While she felt like he _should_ look older, he still seemed a bit young, ravishing and regrettably handsome.

She had eyes, after all. She also had a human brain, quite a good one at that. So, when she felt his eyes on her and she swore she caught a flash of red in his gaze, she knew he was trouble and maintained her eyes somewhere else. Very, very far from him.

They had never mentioned his name and when she opened her mouth to even just ask him, her mother sent her a pointed look and Hermione admittedly relented.

She could have asked Regulus, but he looked rather besotted in whatever this man was telling him. She was thankful that her Legilimency walls stayed put in place, even when she found herself zoning out numerous times.

She couldn't help but wonder if her father was a Legilimens.

Her eyes wandered down to the end of the table, where he sat like usual. He was having a normal, stiff conversation with his brother and she could care less, but when his gaze landed on her, she was stunned. How long had it been since he had even bothered to look at her?

Suddenly, his posture visibly loosened, and his face lit up in a way she hadn't seen before, or remembered, anyways. Before she could assess him any further, every adult in the room stood up and she reluctantly followed.

Her meal still sat, very forgotten and regretful that she'd been too distracted to eat it. She looked at Sirius and composed herself. At least one of them had eaten.

Her attention shifted back to the men in the room. She was rather stunned at the respect the man was getting from the Blacks. It left a part of her justifiably suspicious, as to what he may have done to deserve such treatment. Her family was a proud one; not often did they serve others.

Before she could dwell more on the thought, they were shooed out of the dining room. When she turned around to complain about her hunger to Sirius, Regulus came walking down towards her and nudged her not-so-subtly to keep moving. She was unsure as to how to react to his behaviour, so she merely shrugged it off.

His Slytherins mates had definitely turned him into a strange boy.

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep, tossing and turning with a wide awake mind. Time ticked by slowly and her eyes had just barely begun to flutter close, when her ears caught Bellatrix mentioning her brother's name.

Curiosity piqued and a knitted brow, she shrugged the covers off her form and slowly sat up. She thought herself to be a sensible, level-headed girl, much to the surprise of others, as her twin was the opposite of both of those attributes. Yet, she found herself sneaking out of her room, intent on finding out what her cousin was saying.

She had a bad feeling, and those feelings never ended well.

She turned the knob, sticking her head out quickly to check if anyone was walking by. They seemed to be just a few doors down, she concluded as she made a sharp turn to the left and walked down to face the door.

"I need to get him to sign the betrothal contract," a muffled voice came through the opposite side of the door and she quickly recognized it as her uncle's.

"We must hurry, then," said Bellatrix sharply. "He's in a hurry to know where our loyalties lie. The sooner I marry Sirius, the sooner we will be able to make him happy."

Their words lodged in her mind, pushing a gasp out of her mouth. Thoughts whirled around in her head, and she couldn't fathom what had brought this on. They couldn't possibly _force_ him to marry Bellatrix, could they?

"What are you doing here?" a voice whispered from behind her, and she quickly turned around to push Regulus away. Her brother didn't hesitate gripping her arms tightly this time, and she glanced at him hastily.

"Reg, just go. I'm busy right now," she murmured. She could barely hear the muffled voices anymore and as she shuffled to move closer, she instantly swivelled away at the footsteps that sounded loudly through the room.

Staring at Regulus with a puzzled expression, she did the only thing she could think of at the time — she held his hand and dragged him away, back to his room. She shut the door behind them and leaned against the wood, releasing the breath she didn't know she'd been holding in.

"Can you please just stay inside?" she asked, immediately loathing how desperate she sounded. But she was just that; even though she was sure he wouldn't agree anyways—

"Alright," he said reluctantly, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She didn't have time to dwell on his response, immediately giving him a curt nod before she left his room. Steadying her breath, she tried to think of something—_anything_—that could save Sirius from their cousin's clutches. There was no way she was letting her forcibly marry him. Her brother deserved to live whatever life he chose; even a bachelor one.

So—just before the door could fling open and Cygnus could manipulate him into a betrothal—she scurried off to Sirius's room, praying silently for him to still be awake.

She found him on the other side of the door, eyes wide open and hand hovering just where the knob was supposed to be. "The bond was telling me that—" he started, but she interrupted him. She needed to get him out, so she gripped onto his forearm tightly and dragged his heavy weight away from the room.

She made sure to descend the stairs quietly, urging Sirius to do the same, despite his confusion. Once they reached the first floor of the house, she allowed herself to immediately explain to him what was happening. His face contorted in revulsion as they made to the living room and she nodded in understanding.

She had always thought that she would be the one dealing with betrothals first.

Hermione looked back at him and abruptly stopped. Sirius stood there, clutching onto his shoulder with a pained expression, and panic erupted inside of her when her eyes moved over his head, to Cygnus and Bellatrix, no hint of remorse on their faces over the pain they had caused.

She hurried to her brother's side, quickly inspecting his body for further injuries. When she found none, she turned to Cygnus with a furious look. "You can't make her marry that - that _bitch!_"

"What did you say?" her uncle roared, raising his wand menacingly. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her fingers clutching onto Sirius's sweater tighter. Her eyes darted around them, trying to figure out what to do before things could get worse and—

"Father," a voice called from behind him and Hermione watched as Bellatrix joined his side, her eyes wide with delight. "Allow me . . ." she trailed off, her message hidden with an ulterior purpose.

Anxiety knotted her stomach as the witch pointed her wand at Sirius, while her eyes remained pinned on Hermione. She held a challenging look, as if she were waiting for Hermione's words to lead further pain to Sirius.

Conflict raged inside of her, causing her to bite her tongue so hard that it bled in her fear.

"What were you saying, Hermione? Should Sirius not marry me?" she asked, her voice cold and cunning behind a sweet smile.

Hermione clenched her jaw, urging it shut. She needed to stay calm. She needed to get him out somehow.

Cygnus yelled out, "_Crucio_" despite her silence, and before she could do anything, her brother's piercing cry rang around the room.

"You can't do that!" she bellowed, and Bellatrix drew her wand at her before Hermione could do the same.

"_Crucio_."

She crumpled on the floor, her own cries bleeding with her brother's. Excruciating pain poured into her veins, filling her all the way from her fingertips to her toes. Her gut throbbed with raw, agonizing torture, and it felt as though a bludger had punched the air from everywhere; her head, her ribs, her limbs.

When the buzzing in her ears ceased, she gasped for breath, allowing Sirius to clutch onto her hand and forcing their bodies up.

"What is going on here, Cygnus?" a familiar voice boomed from the top of the stairs, but before she could look through heavy lids, Sirius was leading them both away from the vile people, as far as possible.

They hurried to approach the fireplace, but she halted at her steps as a dizzying sensation took over her head. She pressed her hand against the wall, leaning against it to find her bearings.

She screwed her eyes open, Sirius hovering by her side with an alarmed look. He glanced around to see if anyone else was nearby, before whispering, "Hermione - _shit_. You can't have a vision here."

She nodded slowly, still unable to grasp onto a clear vision. This time, everything felt so much more different. She was left breathing rapidly and despite the furious hammer of her heart, she could still hear slow, heavy footsteps approaching the room.

"Get out before it's too late," Sirius urged her, clutching onto her arms. "I'll follow you right after."

She shook her head with as much fervor as she could, and stood her ground, clutching her wand tightly. "I'm not leaving you."

Before he could persuade her to go again, the guest from earlier sauntered inside the room. Red eyes met brown, and his thin lips morphed into a cold smirk. She froze instantly, her eyes widening when she realized exactly what was happening.

_No, no, no—that vision!_

"Miss Black, what an honour to finally meet you," he purred, his voice splintered the air like ice. Glancing towards Sirius, he arched a brow. "Perhaps, we should get rid of _him_, instead."

Something in her snapped. If she let her agitation get ahead of her, she was bound to do something senseless, and she couldn't afford that; not when she knew what could possibly happen.

She drew a breath and before the wizard could open his mouth once more, she grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, thrust her brother inside the fireplace and yelled out, "Potter Manor!"

She released a shaky breath and her legs—drained of any energy—forced her to slump against the wall. The man's gaze stayed on her and as soon she felt the familiar pull of intrusion in her head, she managed to gather herself. She practically sprang to her feet, slamming her walls up again.

His composure didn't falter, but his eye twitched—almost as if he were deciding what to do with her.

"I see you've met our Hermione, my Lord."


	25. Narcissism

**December, 1975.**

Confusion struck Hermione as the man stood unfazed by Cygnus's comment. Her uncle and Bellatrix quickly joined him to glower down at her, a similar look of loathing directed at her.

"She let Sirius go?" Cygnus asked disbelievingly, and Bellatrix gave him a tight nod. She was scowling at her so menacingly, and Hermione stumbled on her feet—desperate to clutch onto the last bits of Floo Powder.

The wizard flicked his wand at the fireplace, immediately shutting off the Floo and eliminating any means for her to leave the house. Hermione breathed out shakily, fear quickly seeping through her bones, throbbing as it scorched her innards.

"How remarkable," he drawled, his steely gaze sharpening. "Perhaps, it wasn't her brother we should've been recruiting."

"My Lord?" Bellatrix called, seemingly stunned by what he'd just said. Disappointed even, and Hermione put it down to her being unable to now marry Sirius.

Her gaze swept around the room, hopes shattering right as her parents walked in, calm and composed as ever. The little bit of affection she had been grasping onto for all those years, she was forced to let go.

It had all been fake - a trick played by her delusional mind.

Her throat clicked wetly, the ball in her tight throat growing as Walburga took a seat, unhinged at the sight of her daughter, twitching in anguish, and barely holding onto her own weight.

Hermione grabbed the nearest thing she could find in an attempt to steady herself, her gaze shifting to her father just barely. He looked different . . . less _withdrawn_. His eyes held a confounded glint, showing more emotion than his gaze had ever held in the past few years. Had his eyes always been glazed over?

—_No, they hadn't._

"You did something to Father," she declared, rather than asked, her heart frozen in fear as she gasped for a breath, oxygen feeling tighter in her lungs than it ought to.

"Orion!" her mother exclaimed in mocked astonishment. "Did you forget to take _it_ this morning? Mhm, no matter." Walburga cackled in joy, the rest of her family eventually joining her with low chuckles.

Fury burned and clogged her throat, and she continued to stare at her father's slumped body, consumed with a kind of terror that she had never felt before.

Hermione's hold on her wand tightened painfully. "What did you do to him?"

She should've known! The necklace she had given him during Yule was supposed to _control_ his rage and it hadn't even been activated - which meant that his emotions had been controlled in other ways.

It couldn't have possibly been a permanent _Imperius_, but—

"You've been giving him Potions!" she shouted and stumbled forward to curse the woman for long enough to make her regret doing something so—so _awful_ to her own husband.

Hot tears blurred her sight as images whirled around her mind; memories of her loathing her own father. All along, she had resented him for something he had no _control_ over. All this time, she had done nothing to stop it — to _save_ him.

"While I enjoy such a woeful moment, I believe I would much rather like to talk about myself, here."

Her eyes snapped back to the man in front of her, his gaze narrowed just slightly at her. Had she not have been in mortal peril, she would have sneered at his narcissism. At the very moment, she stepped back in apprehension.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice hoarse and weary.

His thin lips morphed into a cruel smirk. "Miss Black, it is truly an honour to meet you. I am _Lord Voldemort_."

The mere mention of his name welcomed an ear-splitting silence in her ears, her mind muddling even further as she lurched back, eyes wide.

"_You_—" she stammered. She had spent a whole _dinner_ with this man — no, with this terrible, loathsome _monster_ that had previously killed and tortured.

"I seem to have noticed something rather unusual, Miss Black. What is your mind hiding from me?" He considered her with a tilt of his head, almost mockingly, while his gaze was critical and sharp.

She pressed her lips together, forcing to keep her secrets to herself before he could attempt to pry further. "Nothing you need to know," she answered steadily, and he raised a stiff brow that spoke volumes of the threats in his mind.

She attempted to move back, but he regained the distance by a few angry, long strides. His enraged face invaded her vision and his hold on her arm took over, tight as it painfully bruised the skin.

A vile chuckle slipped from his lips and he dropped her arm, her body falling onto the cold tiles of the parlour. "This is why," he remarked, staring down at her with a creeping interest. "This is why I'm starting to believe you deserve to bear the Dark Mark, instead."

She balked, crawling farther away from him with aching arms. "_No!_" She shook her head vehemently, slamming her eyes shut as if she could wake up from whatever nightmare this was.

Hands fisted her curls tightly, and her head shot up in pain, dark eyes looking down at her in anger. Bellatrix hovered over her form, dragging her body up — only to let go instantly and cackle with glee at the grunt of pain that escaped her mouth.

"And who are you to deny my Lord?" she questioned, kicking her against the ribs sharply. "A filthy, little blood traitor."

Hermione hissed, her hands instinctively coming up to clutch the throbbing spot where her foot had hit. Her rib cage felt like it was going to collapse on itself and puncture her lungs.

She bit her lip to hold back her tears, still shaking her head as she tried to dislodge the lump in her throat. Her cousin was holding onto a dagger, twirling it between her fingers with a repugnant gaze.

"_Crucio._"

It lasted agonisingly slow. Each and every part of her body was being tore apart, slow and rejecting her own refusal every time she was asked to be a Death Eater. But Hermione could never change her mind. _Never_.

If they thought they could force a fifth year to kill Muggleborns and praise the Dark wizard that was looking down at her with pleasure, they were absolutely wrong. They had gone to the wrong person.

She continued to writhe in pain on the floor, her rib cage crushing her lungs so tightly that each scream came out as a wheeze.

Hermione kept her eyes shut, urging herself desperately to think of anything—_anyone_, that could keep her from losing her mind.

_Your brother is slipping by_, a voice taunted, and her arms instinctively went to frantically recall the image of Sirius and Regulus, right by her side, but her _oh_, so lovely Reggie was fading and there was nothing she could do.

She sagged in defeat—she felt too depleted of energy to even react when the black-haired witch knelt by her side. Her cold fingers curled around the sleeve of her dress and before she knew it, Bellatrix had ripped it away.

The sharp edge hovered down her forearm dangerously and a piercing scream ripped from Hermione's mouth when it dragged down her skin. She willed herself desperately to fight against her hold, and an ache continued to build against her skin, throbbing with Dark magic.

Eventually, her lids began to feel heavy, and she barely caught the hateful gaze she was pinned with. Bellatrix looked at her with so much loathing that she could feel it leak through her skin, making her nauseated.

She wondered what she had done to her cousin, and her thoughts faded into faint wisps of sound. She could hear her father demanding something from across the room, but the pain was agonizing, clawing at her head in anguish—

_Hold on to my voice, Hermione._

She gasped for breath, allowing spiraling visions to form in front of her. The voice in her head brought images rushing forward like a broken dam, and she breathed heavily, her eyes flying open. Hermione could _feel_ the trunk in the back of her mind, filled with the unconscious of Granger, unlock and spring open.

_Stand up, Hermione. I know you can do it._

All it had taken was a torture from Bellatrix Black.

Slowly, she tried to sit up, biting down a groan at the unbearable pain. Her palm allowed her to lean onto the wall by her side, while her left arm remained limp.

She was too afraid to look at it.

Her attention shifted to what was happening before her, and she soon realized that her father was talking to them. Her lips trembled as she took in his troubled state, him sneaking a look at her, while he continued to distract them.

In front of those people, he still managed to keep his composure, and she was startled at the look _she_ was given; hidden with desperation to get to her and give her a warm embrace.

One of a _reunion_.

Though, at the moment, he silently prompted her to leave the room.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Regulus's head stick out of the doorway and she grabbed her wand, whispering a Silencing Charm on her steps as she wobbled unsteadily towards him.

Her little brother moved to hold onto her weight, managing just barely to catch her from falling. "I'm so sorry," his voice shook, and she resisted the urge to comfort him like she was so used to when he had nightmares.

She expelled a soft grunt, unable to clear it from being either of pain or acceptance of him finally addressing her properly. Her breath continued to hitch at the intense ache, and he whispered reassuring words in her ears as they moved up the stairs.

Hermione wasn't sure of where he was taking her, and even with the throbbing ache in her head, she wondered why he was making her limp body move on more, heavy steps.

She still breathed in the smell of his presence, the ache in her chest allowing her to feel even if just a bit more secure now.

She allowed darkness take over for just a second, before her ears caught the distinctive cackle of fire. She didn't have time to do anything because soon, her limp body was being pushed somewhere and she felt a familiar sensation take over her body before it hit the hard floor.

White tiles were being splattered with the colour of her blood, crimson like her dress, and someone rushed to hold her, calling out her name in worry.

It was only _then_ that she remembered who she had left behind. Hermione started to shake violently, even under the hold of the person's arms. "Wait. _Father!_"

She clutched the front of James's robes with a vice like grip, and her eyes pleaded with him before they widened with a loud gasp. "S-Sirius! Sirius!" she called, half sobbing.

Her brother hurried to hold her instead, and she cupped his face with shaky hands. "I need to go back, _please_. Father—he _saved_ me, Sirius!"

His grip on her faltered in shock, and she took the opportunity to rush backwards, pushing him away from her. They hurried with their hands outstretched to reach for her, but she ran with all the energy she had to the Floo, going back to the hell that had come loose.

.

Hermione looked around Regulus's room, his wide gaze pinned on her with a disheartened look. "Why did you come back? Hermione, you need to leave," he muttered hoarsely, but she shook her head steadfastly.

"Father," she croaked out, her throat suddenly feeling drier than ever. "He needs to leave, too. He—" she cut herself off once she caught the stricken sheen in Regulus's eyes.

Bile rose in the back of her throat, and fear bubbled like acid in her stomach as she wondered why he was crying.

"Hermione," Regulus called hoarsely, and the agony that came from his tone pulled at her insides, worrying her more than ever. "Mother didn't tell us—he had an _illness_. Father is _gone_, Hermione."

She shoved him away, her mind in free fall, spinning out of control as she desperately tried to go back to where her father had been—where he'd looked _just fine _with his silver eyes, swimming in fondness and reassurance that only her father could have for her.

Her ears were assaulted by her own terrible cry that wished to tear her heart apart, sheer anguish that hit her so forcefully that she screamed in misery. Hermione needed to see what she had missed out on for the duration of her childhood. She needed her real father, who had really _loved_ her and fought against Potions to prove it.

Her legs crumpled on the deathly stillness of the floor. _Papa._

She felt arms - warm arms, but she yearned not to feel - and they wrapped around her. Before she could even fathom what Regulus had just said—_Orion Black could not just die like that_—she was shoved back into the Floo once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate all the kudos this story has received! Please, feel free to give any critique, recommendation, or even just tell me how you feel about the new chapter. Thank you so much for all the support.


	26. Head Massage

**December, 1975.**

Christmas came the next day, but Hermione didn't care to join, even when they all tried to get her out of bed - except of course, her brother. Her and Sirius spent the next few days like that; sitting in each other's company with a bleak silence washed with a sense of grief that they couldn't yet grasp on.

It was _hard_, believing that someone like Orion Black had died. And to think that Regulus believed the fact that an illness would've killed him, when the people who had hurt her were at the same place, at the same time, it was appalling.

Surely, he couldn't be so brainwashed, could he? At the very least, _he_ wasn't in danger, considering how much Walburga adored him.

Her hands were clasped together, ears straining to hear Sirius's shallow breathing as he sat on his knees in front of her bed. "He's _dead_." It came out like a whisper, like a strong gust of air blowing right outside of the manor, reaching desperately to cause havoc to the peace in the house.

She couldn't bear to answer, choking on the thought alone in internal tears and despair.

"_He's dead_," he repeated, his voice shaky but much stronger. The grief had finally hit him.

His eyes were glistening with tears just as her own sight blurred - still desperate to give all of her attention to her brother. There was a growing terror that whipped and thickened every second he wasn't in front of her.

Sirius needed her. She needed him.

She caught her lip before it could quiver and let out a whimper. She set her face as straight as she could, as numb as she could feel. Just like her father, she remembered.

And just as she jerked a nod, he moved to wrap his arms around her torso and buried his face in front of her shirt, allowing the bond to fill a small portion of the void in her gut. The wetness of his tears soaked her stomach through her shirt, but she could care less.

A single tear rolled down her cheek, until it turned into a steady stream, and Hermione's breath was wedged somewhere between her mouth and lungs, choking her.

She encouraged him to cry. A hand on the back of his neck and another carding through his hair, she was desperate to comfort him. She whispered sweet nothings, half sobbing on them at the sound of his troubled voice.

They clung to each other's comfort like children holding onto their mother.

"It's not fair," she heard him say. "It's not fair that he—he _died_ as soon as we found out that he wasn't an arsehole." He let out a bitter laugh and she didn't care to reprimand him for his language.

"No, it isn't," her voice shook, and she began to weep tears so quiet, but the grief so loud. He was right. Orion Black hadn't been an arsehole, not intentionally and not to them. But . . . but they hadn't even gotten one beat of their heart to rejoice.

When had it gotten so complicated? Maybe, just _maybe_ it would've been better never having to find out—letting an alternative ending take place where he could have been an arrogant man, but an alive one.

He deserved to be fucking alive.

But he wasn't. He was dead, _gone_. He was never going to surprise her by his rapid feat of magic as he healed her wounds, or let a small smile bloom on his lips at the sight of his children.

He was simply gone, but the heartbreaking agony persisted.

"I'm so sorry," his voice trembled, and Hermione held him closer, her screaming insides squeezing and choking the breath from her.

* * *

James found her standing on the patio. As he slipped out of the door, the biting cold crept around him painfully, forcing him to wonder how long Hermione had been outside - wearing no more than one, thin layer.

When he had found her thrown over the Floo Network for the second time, he hadn't had the chance to move because soon, she had let out an excruciating cry and he'd just - just _frozen_ like an idiot.

By that time, his parents had gotten home and after that, it all seemed a daze; healing the twins' injuries, giving Hermione a Calming Draught, watching as blood dripped down the taunting lines.

_Blood traitor._

His gaze slid down to her arm until he forced it back up. He couldn't let her feel worse than she already did, especially not over the scar that had been carved on her for forever.

For Merlin's sake, they were supposed to be just _fifteen_. She was too young - it was too soon for her to leave the safety of her innocence. It felt as though James had failed himself and his best friends, by allowing her to get hurt so hauntingly.

He hadn't even really talked to her over the past few days. Hermione didn't show it but inside, he knew she was grieving. He admitted he didn't know how to deal with things like that, so he gave her space.

Unlike Sirius, who had wordlessly begged James to distract him once he had wrecked everything that had come into his sight.

Nevertheless, when Mipsy had informed him she wasn't in her room, he'd all but panicked. Sirius was gone to Gringotts with his uncle, Alphard Black, and now, Hermione was supposed to be _his_ responsibility.

Suppressing a sigh at her inexpressive face, he gingerly walked around to face her, careful not to startle her - not that she would _show_ it. He slid his glasses back over the bridge of his nose and eyed her cautiously.

Her face was blotchy red, a running nose and two almost-blue hands clasped together. The sight may have been unflattering but to him, it was more devastating than anything.

He wanted to shake her shoulders and demand to have his Hermione back—the one that was always fierce and expressive, one to never be left speechless and always a chatterbox, no matter the topic.

"Hermione, let's go," he said quietly, but she made no move to follow him inside.

"Come on," _say something_, he wanted to implore, his voice filling with urgency as he stepped closer. They stood quietly, his soothing on her back, grounding her. He eventually pulled her into his arms, cradling her as tremors of cold racked through her body.

James couldn't bear to see her like this. She wasn't even crying but somehow, it made everything much worse.

His hand took a hold of her wrist, until he slid it down to her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers so that he could pull her back inside. He wished incredibly to give all of his warmth to her, and let her take _all_ of it.

As soon as they were hit with the warmth of their home, he steered her away from her bedroom and instead, made sure that she rested on the sofa in front of the fireplace. He sat down next to her silently, shooting her concerned look.

He expelled a soft sigh. "Put your head on my lap."

Her eyes dragged away from the crackling fire, her face illuminated with the bright glow of it, and her head cocked in confusion, or disbelief.

James never really knew what was going on in her head.

"You want me to put my head on your lap," she repeated and chuckled shortly—the corners of her lovely eyes crinkling for five quick beats of his heart—and he almost pumped a fist in triumph.

Playing along, he pulled his bottom lip in an adorable pout - or so he thought, anyways. "You always let me do that, so I thought _I_ could massage _your_ head for once."

Hermione stared at him, her lips set into a straight line and he almost sighed in defeat, but she rose from her seat begrudgingly, sitting by his feet on the floor.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, staring at the back of her head until she glanced behind to shoot him a look he knew all too well - one that said, 'You should know this and if you don't, you're an idiot'.

James pulled his legs up to the couch and crossed them together, staring at the mass of curls. "Well, I guess I'll manage with this," he muttered under his breath, and his fingers dove to her scalp, moving hesitantly.

He wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to do, but if her soft sigh was anything to go by, he was doing well enough.

"How are you?" he awkwardly tried to plow on, waiting for her to ramble on her answer like she always did. He felt her stiffen and silence stretched between them.

"It's hard to grieve for someone you believed not to love," she whispered, still holding her gaze locked with the fire. "Sirius and I both _hated_ him, not the same as Walburga, but still. Maybe if . . ."

She trailed off, but he cut her off before her train of thought could take another turn. He didn't like the piteous tone of blame reflected in her voice. It wasn't like the Hermione he knew, and James was convinced he knew her well.

"Hermione, it's not your fault," he insisted firmly.

A loud scoff resonated through the room, and his hands stilled. "The thing is that I'm not even sure I hated him even before. It makes things harder — _so, so much_," she croaked, turning away from what he'd said.

James wasn't sure how he should answer. He knew he needed to be more careful and tactful; something his mum made sure to remind him constantly.

First, he let her words sink in. Maybe, it was better this way? _No_. What if he wanted the suffering to end? _Not at all_.

"Just because he's gone, it doesn't mean he has stopped loving you. _No_, I think he's learning more about you now, and that just makes him adore his daughter even more."

When she didn't reply, he assumed that she was pondering over one of the few wise sentences he'd shared over the years—he was a little behind Sirius—and his hands casually tangled between the voluminous curls once more.

A little while later, a tap on the window attracted his attention and he squinted at the owl warily. It looked exactly like the one he'd seen a couple of times in the Great Hall, flying towards his best friends to deliver disheartening words.

He thought he could distract her from it, but Hermione had become much more attentive to her surroundings. She was about to stand up when he moved, allowing her to slump back against the leg of the couch as he walked to the impatient bird.

His hand reached for the window latch to let the owl in and before he knew it, it had dropped a note in his hands and wasted no time in flying away, dismissing any possibility of a treat.

He thought he shouldn't read it, but he _did_ need to know if it was safe for Hermione.

And as his eyes swept over the curt words, his jaw tightened with a painful click, not fully registering that Hermione had sneaked up behind him and caught the message over his shoulders.

* * *

It seemed like the mystery had been solved, but at what cost?

It was a brisk walk to where the private rooms were organized. The goblin stopped abruptly at one door in particular and motioned gruffly for Hermione to get in. She hurried to do so when she heard Sirius's voice rising, making sure to still remember the purpose of her visit.

Uncle Alphard had told them about the Will reading - how it must be done after the death of the Head of the House. His responsibility was left on Sirius's shoulders, but according to her twin, on hers too as she deserved equal rights.

Though, Hermione hadn't been ready to read what it said - what he might've been _feeling_ as he got it written.

"Miss Black," an older goblin, Sibook, greeted her with a curt nod, and she followed with a greeting of her own, standing in between the chairs her two loved ones were seated in.

"I'm afraid that we won't be able to read his Will. We . . . we have been blasted off the Black tapestry," she explained quietly, rushing to draw a breath every so often to steady the pain in her chest.

Everyone in the room looked at her in shock, but she kept her face straight ahead, impassive.

"I see," Sibook drawled, letting his face scrunch in disgust over the appalling behaviour of her family. Hermione found that she couldn't blame him for judging her mother.

She almost thanked him for it.

After a couple of seconds, her uncle composed himself and leaned closer to the parchment, glancing at Sibook. "Perhaps we could try nonetheless? There could be a chance that the Will doesn't connect to the Black tapestry."

.

Try they did, but after several attempts at reading the remaining words of her father, Hermione allowed Uncle Alphard to apparate them back to Potter manor.

As soon as her feet touched the white pavement, she swivelled on her feet, intent on moving away from the parlour and back to the safety of her room.

_Stay in your room_, Walburga had once repeatedly ordered.

"Hermione," her uncle called out, making his way towards her. Slowly, she whirled around to face him with a deep frown. "We should have a talk with the Potters, don't you think so?"

Without waiting for her response, Sirius swiftly seized her hand and followed their uncle to where the family sat, looking quite hesitant once they saw her follow with heavy steps.

Her eyes remained downcast until she caught Dorea's eyes shine hopefully, and Hermione forced her lips to lift up, though her intended smile may have come out as a grimace, instead. As they sat in the small room, she found herself uncertain on what she was even doing there, amongst so many people, all at once.

Before she could voice her thoughts on leaving, her uncle stopped her as he opened his mouth, "I appreciate all the help you've given to these kids. I admit, I am rather embarrassed for not realizing what was happening to them, for all these years."

"It's not your fault, Alphard. Everyone in this room knows who's to blame for what has happened," Charlus insisted firmly, and she was reminded of the conversation she had with his son just an hour prior.

With a reluctant nod, Alphard turned to look at her and her brother. His gaze flicked between them as he said, "You two are welcome to stay here or come live with me, if you would like."

While Sirius immediately stated that he wanted to remain at the manor, Hermione took her time to really consider the request. While she was grateful for what her best friend's family had done for her, could she really burden them further?

Just by looking at them, she could tell that they were being hesitant, and they _shouldn't_, not in their own house.

Not like she had been at Grimmauld.

Although Hermione hadn't seen her uncle very often, she knew he considered the twins more like family than the rest of the Blacks. For once, she needed someone who understood exactly what living as a Black had been like.

And Uncle Alphard was someone who knew that very well, being yet another member to no longer be mentioned by her family.

"I think I would like to spend the rest of the break with you," she muttered to him as quietly as she could, unable to take a look at the people that watched her closely.

She knew they were surprised, but she wouldn't be able to bear to forget their expression, were they to face her with disappointment.

When her uncle held an unsure, searching look, she added, "_Please_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit, I almost regretted killing Orion, but it had to happen, and you guys will see it soon. Anyways, I hope you liked the update and feel free to tell me what you think!


	27. Mini Walburga

**January, 1976.**

Hermione felt like she was in a limbo; time had evidently stopped in one way or another. She couldn't put it down to the distance between her twin, or perhaps everything that had occurred on Christmas's Eve.

However, everything _did_ change once Granger's voice rang in her mind once more.

Eventually, Hermione had started coming out in the living room and playing Wizarding Chess with her uncle, who would immediately beam at the sight of her.

Later at night, she would let the unconscious ramble on about her life.

_So, you married the redhead?_

_Hm, perhaps you'll find a redhead in your universe, too_, Granger mused.

Hermione snorted. _No, the only redheads here are the Prewett twins, and they've already graduated._

_Oh . . ._

Strangely enough, she caught the change in the woman's tone and asked, _What is it?_

Granger cleared her throat. _Well - you might have to save them, too._

Hermione expelled a sigh, flopping back on the mattress with a loud thud. So far, the thirty years old woman had reminded her of a couple of names who had been affected in her dimension by the war, but she had still refused to say what had happened to Sirius.

She had mentioned that Hermione wasn't ready yet, which was utter _hogwash_, considering that she'd already faced Voldemort once already.

Even Granger hadn't done _that_—though they still shared the torture by Bellatrix. The only difference was the word carved up on her arm.

_I don't get why I have to be the Chosen One_, she whined in her head.

_I'm sorry. It's . . . well—it just happened._

Granger didn't speak again, and Hermione didn't complain, instead letting her heavy lids drop.

If the dreams she used to have at Hogwarts were bad, the ones she had now were excruciatingly worse. She constantly woke up to her sweat mingled with the tears she'd shed in her sleep.

Her Occlumency barriers had weakened as well, perhaps due to the torture. It _had_ been quite a while since she'd gotten punished at Grimmauld — a whole holiday later, precisely.

Despite everything, a little voice in her head couldn't help but point out that being disowned meant that her and Sirius won't have to go back to their parents—_no, Walburga_—in the summer.

However, wouldn't that possibly end the smallest interactions she used to get with Regulus?

There was no way she could possibly forget that he _did_ help her get out of the Black manor, insisting that she went back to Sirius more than once. He had talked to her more then, than he had during the entirety of the terms spent at Hogwarts.

She remembered the spiteful look in his eyes, the firm frown etched onto his face. _Merlin_, when had her little, innocent Reg turned into a miniature version of _Walburga?_ How could Hermione even let that happen?

It was her fault. She should've insisted more, tried to talk to him more, or even just locked her two brothers with her in a room, until they went back to talking like they used to.

Before _everything_.

Sometimes, she felt like Hogwarts had made her life better, but even worse.

The castle had given her a chance at magic itself, but also at friendship and loyalty. In the same way, it had introduced her to pain and betrayal. It had saved her from her family, but it had separated her from the one person she'd considered family and loved as much as her twin.

Of course, she also loved the boys dearly, but had she really forgotten about her little brother on the way?

To think that she was supposed to be the reasonable one.

When Sirius had acted immature once Regulus was sorted in Slytherin, she should've insisted on talking some sense into him, and urged him to talk to Regulus again.

She came to realize that it would do her no good to keep crying over spilt milk. _Yes_, she'd made mistakes, _numerous_ ones. Despite that, she needed to get over them, so that she could even think of fixing everything.

Hermione needed her whole family back together, before she could lose someone else again. She needed to wash away any impurities Regulus's brain may have been filled with.

He deserved to know how his father had truly died; at the hands of the man he had started to respect.

She glared up at the ceiling. There was no way she was going to let Voldemort force her brother to become a Death Eater. He'd already messed with her family once; she would be damned if she were to let that happen again.

A hand flew to her mass of curls, running through the knots as she tried to figure out how to, _well_ — how to even _go_ _on_ from there. Her eyes moved towards the calendar hung on the wall, and she read the date.

Time had passed too quickly, and she now needed to go back to the place where it had all begun.

The Headmaster should start preparing for her. She had a lot to get done.

* * *

Uncle Alphard placed a comforting hand on her arm, and Hermione sent him a small, strained smile. The corners of the man's eyes crinkled, despite the small furrow between his brows. Her uncle refused to admit it, but she knew he would feel lonely soon after she left.

"Please, take care of yourself," she reminded him, making sure her voice was firm and with no chances of him getting around the order.

He gave her a dramatic salute—resembling her brother too much as he did so—and he sighed heavily. "Bollocks - I think I should've begged you to just forget about Hogwarts."

Urging out a gasp, her hand flew to her mouth in horror. "I could _never_ drop out of Hogwarts! Especially during my O.W.L.s year, which reminds me that I still need to prepare proper study notes . . ."

_Well, I did drop out of my seventh year_, Granger started, but let out a noise of protest when her uncle interrupted her.

"Okay, let's just stop there," he insisted, leading closer to the train. "Since you've _so kindly_ refused my offer to stay with me, make sure you stay in trouble—wait, did I not say _'out of it'_?"

She rolled her eyes, though her lips curved into a small smile. "You know very well what you said. I guess that advice was meant more for Sirius than me."

He let out a chuckle, his eyes glinting in amusement. "Oh, no. I know _all_ about the trouble you've also been getting in, young lady. You just don't get caught."

Before she could respond, he threw a haste look over her head and when he glanced back at her, his face had ridden itself of any mischief.

"Hermione, I know last year has been hard for you. I don't know how much my company has helped you, but I want you to know that you're welcome to visit me anytime. I — you're a very bright girl, and I know you'll do many great things in life."

Her sight instantly blurred, and she could see his own glittering with unshed tears. She drew a shuddering breath and moved to wrap her arms around his torso, a muffled _'thank you'_ flying out of her mouth as she buried her face in the front of his robes.

She leaned back and forced a grin to grow on her lips, urging herself to brighten up the mood. "And you need to find someone to live with. You're becoming an old man, and someone needs to be there, to make sure you don't poison yourself with your own food."

When he pouted like a petulant child, she let out a small laugh. Normally, she would've been annoyed by his theatrics, but at the moment, she knew he meant well and wanted to make her smile.

"Now, I should go," he said, regrettably so. "When you see Sirius, tell him I've missed him and he's _much_ more fun."

"_Uh_, I'll make sure to lie to him then?" she teased, her smile slipping off right as he disapparated away. There were families surrounding her everywhere, yet she felt a hollow emptiness grip at her insides.

Like a cursed dagger.

Her eyes desperately swept around, wishing to catch a glimpse of the boys. Her gaze immediately halted once she recognized Amos. His back was slightly turned towards her and he was talking to someone—

_Walburga_.

_No_. What if that woman did something to him, as well? Hermione hadn't realized she was walking, not until she quickened her pace, hurrying to rid the distance across the platform.

She caught a glimpse of Regulus, standing by Walburga's side as he looked at Amos with a tight expression.

Just as she neared them, she heard her boyfriend's voice address the older witch, "I am sorry for your loss, Lady Black."

Hermione rushed forward and latched her fingers around his arm, forcibly moving him so that he could be by her side. She narrowed her eyes at Walburga, the grip on her wand tightening, and she barely resisted the boiling urge to curse her into oblivion.

"There's no need to tell her that, Amos. Don't you think that her face seems to be glowing now?" she asked, never looking away from the woman.

"Hermione!" Amos hissed by her side, but she ignored him. She couldn't just stand there and let him pity the woman that had probably stood aside, as Voldemort killed her father. She gazed over to Regulus, whose eyes were fixed to the ground.

"Regulus," she said, her voice much softer and silently pleading for him to look at her. When he did, there was a familiar expression on his face. He reminded her terribly of their father, who rarely allowed himself to broadcast his emotions for the world to see.

She couldn't decipher what he was thinking, not even when he greeted her in a terse voice, "Blood traitor."

She flinched at the name, quickly composing herself before her attention could wander off to her arm. She realized that people would be seeing it—how could she possibly think of hiding it forever?

Just why should she hide it?

"Oh, yes. That was very creative, really. Did _Bella_ teach you that?"

Just as she stared at him, waiting patiently for a reaction, someone reached for her hand from behind and pulled her into a tight embrace. Sandy coloured hair flew into her vision, and she relaxed into the hug.

Remus let go of her, looking over the three people that were eyeing him distastefully. Before Hermione could turn back around, he clutched into her hand and dragged her away.

Once they stopped at a relatively reasonable distance, he patted the top of her head, stroking her soft curls. "_Pack_," he whispered, a deep frown turned at his lips.

"Did you—"

"Moony felt that you were in danger," he explained softly, his concerned gaze dancing over her face. She had evident bags under her eyes, her face pale and sickly. "James told me about what happened."

"_Ah_." Her eyes held a distant darkness in them, mingled with grief that confirmed what he'd heard.

Orion Black had been a good man.

"You're going to tell me how you're feeling," he told her quietly, aware of the emotional range of the rest of the Marauders. "If you think you can get away with keeping everything buried, you're wrong."

"Okay," she muttered at last, her voice weary but she looked rather grateful for his presence.

Remus relaxed greatly. While he would often refrain from ordering the boys around, he was much more confident with her. In a way, they were each other's _best_-best friends. Of course, they would never let the other Marauders hear that, as they would complain about being left out.

His gaze flicked back to Amos, who was now greeted by his group of friends. Remus remembered sensing fear and distaste from the Hufflepuff, something completely caught him off guard. He'd expected jealousy, perhaps, but definitely not fear. _Unless—_

"Prongs, you're going the wrong way! She's right in front of us," a loud voice called from behind and they both turned to look at the two boys that hurried to catch up to them.

While Hermione had expected James to be somewhat hesitant, the boy wasted no time in joining her brother as they engulfed her into a tight embrace.

She'd been getting more hugs today, than she'd ever gotten in her childhood.

"Uhm, guys?" Peter called hesitantly, and soon, him and Remus joined the group hug. She breathed in deeply, allowing herself a small smile. After all the blood and tears shed, she needed the scent that reminded her of comfort and happiness, despite the ache in her chest that made it harder to breathe.

* * *

The feast at dinner was oddly eventful. Amos hadn't met her eyes once, nor did Regulus — though, the latter wasn't acting much different from the usual.

A Hufflepuff who _did_ stick around dinner was Goldstein. Or at least she did, until Lily slammed her glass of pumpkin juice down the table. The '_thunk'_ that followed the action caught the attention of many Gryffindors, who looked on, intrigued.

The redhead glared daggers at the fourth year, not bothering to be subtle, at all. Hermione watched as the Prefect leaned forward against the edge of the table, snapping her fingers at James.

Hermione caught a gleam of excitement in his eyes, but he shoved it down before anyone else could see it. He tilted his head quizzically, feigning confusion.

"You are aware that you're not allowed to have such displays of affection here, aren't you?" she snapped, narrowing her eyes at the couple.

Before James could utter anything, the blonde girl jumped in their defense. "Well, it isn't our fault that we're the only true, loving couple at Hogwarts."

The fourth year had a smug smile that only grew wider as Lily's face continued to flush in anger. On the other hand, Hermione found her rebuttal to be quite weak and ironic as their relationship was anything but _true_.

"Perhaps, the rest of students are much smarter and know how to prioritize their studies," Lily stated calmly, clutching tightly onto her fork. "Now, _please_, go back to your House table, before I call Professor McGonagall."

While the girl hurried back to her friends, Hermione held back a snort as she eyed her former roommate and her obvious jealousy.

She supposed she _should_ be happy, knowing that James was one step closer to being with the love of his life, but she shoved down what she assumed to be slight nausea at the idea of him bringing Lily in their dorm.

She decidedly avoided looking at her best friend and glanced over at the empty seat of the Headmaster.

She sighed heavily, dropping her gaze back to her half-empty plate, and she wondered whether it would be worth waiting until everyone left to sleep.

Looking up, she watched as everyone ate dinner delightfully, and decided that _no_, she needed to go to the Headmaster right away.

Her hand moved to sling her bag over her shoulder, and she rose from her seat, looking at the boys' curious gaze.

"I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore," she hurried to say, and while the rest of the boys went back to eating, Sirius was looking at her intently.

She shook her head, knowing well that he was thinking of joining her. She no longer wanted to include him in those meetings, especially knowing that her twin would object to what Hermione currently had planned.

Sirius stared at her and finally nodded slowly, going back to eat. Her feet moved on their own, now much more used to the journey she'd started to take since a few months ago.

Hermione hesitated briefly as she faced the Gargoyle, muttering a couple of sweets before she thought of the most obvious password.

"_Lemon drops_," she tried at once, and the large statue moved, also used to seeing her at strange times of the day.

She walked up the circular, stone staircase, her eyes immediately finding the Headmaster at his large desk, a quill in his hand. Despite his stance, she could tell he'd been waiting for her, if the lack of surprise in his voice was any sign.

"Hermione," he greeted calmly, motioning a hand for her to sit on her usual seat. She followed the suggestion, sitting down primly.

"Professor, I hope I am not interrupting anything," she began, and she instantly received a shake of his head. Thoughts piled up in her head and while she'd been intent on talking to him, she wasn't sure on where to start.

She tried to dislodge the lump in her throat, her chest painfully tight. "My father was killed," she eventually managed hoarsely.

His blue eyes bore into hers, and he slowly set down the quill in his hands. "Was it not an illness, Hermione?"

His question was whisked away by the memories that haunted her sleep, and she ignored him. "Did you know I had the chance to meet a _charming_ man over the holidays? His name was . . . ah, yes. Lord Voldemort," she said, snapping her fingers in mocked delight.

"And just what a coincidence - Orion Black dying on the same day, just as he helped me get away from a crazy witch after she finished torturing me," she said, allowing him to catch a glimpse of her scar, before she pulled her sleeve back down.

It was silent. not a word uttered between them as they sat there, staring. His eyes dimmed of their usual twinkle and she looked away, a twinge of guilt surging through her chest at being so rude.

But at that moment, as harsh as she was, she just kept silent. She didn't want to take back the _truth_.

"I am truly saddened to hear that," he told her. Her fingers remained secured on top of her lap, her breathing still uneven. "Had I known he would be there, I would have made sure you had stayed at Hogwarts."

And what about her _family?_

"I know that," she stated firmly. "Those things . . . they've already happened and there's no going back."

His white, bushy brows rose in surprise and a saddened smile grew on his lips. "_It truly does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live._"

She bit back a retort stating that it was everything but a dream. "Yes, but I believe I came here to talk to you about something else."

"And what is it, Hermione?" he asked, his azure eyes sharpened.

"My supposed training, Professor. Just how do you think I'm supposed to defeat that monster?"

"Hermione, you're too young—"

She put her hand forward and choked out a short laugh, bitter and strained. "Was I not young when you suggested for me to be given Fawkes's tears?" her voice remained firm, despite the despair that looked to escape at the reminder of being chosen for such a fate.

They had dug her into this hole, where each passing second of her being alive reminded her of her father's death and her failure at doing more.

A heavy sigh slipped past his lips and he replied, "I will see to find an Auror, who will keep your secret and train you regardless of your young age."

"Wonderful," she muttered, clasping her hands together to keep them from trembling. It was starting to become a habit, but she didn't care to stop.

"Voldemort," the name washed over her like acid on her tongue. "Am I correct to assume he was your student? I need to know everything there is about him."

The Headmaster cocked his head calmly. "I suppose there is no way I could ask you to wait until next year, is there?"

She shook her head adamantly, releasing a shaky breath. Her rib cage was urging her to lay down, but even the Cruciatus's after-effects couldn't stop her from remaining in her seat, staring back at him defiantly.

"We will start tonight."


	28. Broken Charms

**January, 1976.**

It appeared to Hermione that the Headmaster had a profound love for Pensieve memories - if the stack in his cabinet was anything to go by. However, she didn't complain about the nauseous feeling that overcame her body as she got sucked into the memory.

Not when she was so determined to learn anything there was about Voldemort.

In the bright light shooting past the window of the Gaunt Shack, the wrinkles on the Headmaster's face looked more pronounced than usual. Shaking her head, she looked away to pay attention to the scene unfolding in front of her.

She hadn't expected Voldemort—no, _Tom Marvolo Riddle_, as Professor Dumbledore had told her—to be the son of a Muggle.

The old wizard moved across the wood pavement, explaining the Gaunt family's connection with Slytherin and consequently, their ability to speak Parseltongue.

It was definitely strange, but Hermione didn't find it offensive, per se. Instead, she found it fitting that the family could talk in the language of snakes.

Wasn't that what they were? Attacking each other, outing sisters for pining over Muggle men—all while still sharpening and showcasing the proud Slytherin possessions that were a ring and a locket.

Not to mention that Tom Riddle Snr. wanted nothing to do with the family - if that loud scoff and the presence of his girlfriend wasn't already a sign.

"How did they even end up together?" she asked curiously once they had exited the memory and gone back to their previous seats.

A small silence stretched in between and he eventually answered, "I suspect that it was a Love Potion, which Merope took him off of in belief of him that he would stay with her regardless, due to the pending birth of their child."

"But he didn't stay," she guessed and wasn't surprised when she received a confirmation.

It was said to believe that if one was born due to the influence of a Love Potion, that child would never be able to experience true love.

Could that be the reason that drove the young wizard to the edge, eventually leading him to become a monster?

"There's something I must say to Miss Granger, if you'll allow me, of course," eventually said Professor Dumbledore, apologetically breaking her line of thought.

She hesitated if only just slightly, but she nodded in consent. Hermione wasn't exactly sure as to how he was even going to make that conversation happen.

She hadn't anticipated a sharp noise rush to her ears, deafening but not too painful. Confusion washed over her as he stared at her with a twinkle in his blue eyes; long enough that she was able to drown out the continuous sound, straining to focus on the ticking of the old clock, instead.

Four minutes and thirty-two seconds later—or, so she guessed, anyways—her ears welcomed back the comforting quiet, and her mouth dropped open, slightly ajar in wonder.

Seemingly noticing her look, he sent her a small smile. "I used a special method of Legilimency that allowed me to talk solely with a part of your mind, the one filled with her unconscious."

A hesitant moment passed through them when she nodded, carefully waiting for him to expand his explanation. There shouldn't be anything so important that he would have to hide it from her but mention it to Granger.

"I admit I've forbidden her to tell you of anything that might play against the Fates even more than it already has."

Of course, he knew that she'd intended to ask about her best friends' future. She couldn't help but mentally pout like a petulant child at missing the opportunity forever.

_Don't be so sure_, Granger muttered, and Hermione tried her best to keep her face straight, ridding it of any surprise that may bring doubt to Professor Dumbledore's mind.

Eventually, he bid her goodnight and suggested she went to sleep, mentioning just _how late_ it was. Hermione thought he was crazy as there was no way she could fall asleep after that.

But it _was_ midnight, and it felt like the stars above her head were giving her a piercing stare, glaring at her as though she wasn't allowed to walk around the corridors at that time.

Nor was Amos, but he was walking towards her, wasn't he?

The corners of her lips lifted tiredly, even if just a bit, at the sight of him. "Hey," she greeted and moved to wind her arms around him because she _really_, _really_ needed a hug - one that could soothe her aching heart at the familiar embrace.

His fingers, suddenly feeling colder than usual, latched around her wrists, and Hermione flinched at his closeness to her scar. He didn't seem to have noticed, as he was busy dragging her to an empty classroom.

Hermione assumed he wanted to snog her, and as they carefully avoided the desks and moved around in the dark, stopping to the farthest side of the room, she shook her head stubbornly.

"Amos, I'm too tired for this. Why don't we just talk?" she offered, hopeful.

"No, Hermione."

The closeness to the window allowed her to hear the raindrops splatter against the glass, and for a moment, she thought she'd misheard him. "Wha—"

"You didn't come home," he cut her off, his tone steely. Her brows knitted together, and she scoffed loudly because _of course_, she didn't. But then again, he didn't know what had happened.

"I'm sorry, Amos. Something happened at home - I . . ." she hesitated momentarily to think of what she could really tell him. "I got disowned."

"Your mother has already informed my parents about that," he bit and his hold on her got glaringly tight; so tight that she found herself imagining yet another Tom Riddle, waiting to curse her arm with a lifetime of murder.

"Oh, how _nice_ of her." She snorted despite herself, and had Walburga been there, she would've smacked her only daughter, tinting her cheeks with a harsh splatter of red.

Hermione truly just wanted feather kisses on those cheeks.

"Hermione," said Amos as he expelled a heavy sigh, as though she was tearing his patience apart.

"What do you want, Amos?" she asked, going for scathing but coming up tired. Seeing his glare just reminded her of disappointing yet another person.

"I need you to tell me why you're spending your time with someone like _Lupin_," he immediately replied, his voice harsh as his nose scrunched up in distaste.

Her heart lurched inside her chest, and she was pretty sure she had come close to not breathing, at all.

_Please, don't say anything bad_, she begged him in her mind—

"They say he's a _werewolf_, Hermione."

She immediately shrugged herself off his hold and crossed her arms, hoping it didn't become noticeable of the defensive stance she'd taken for her best friend.

"I don't know who _they_ is, considering they're wrong and he's not a werewolf," she lied curtly, jabbing her finger at his chest, no longer able to contain her anger. "But tell me, Amos. While he is not one, what if there _is_ a werewolf at school? What's so wrong with that?"

He squinted his eyes at her as though she'd asked him something that had an obvious answer - something he was _sure_ she would agree with him. But the thing was that Hermione did not ask useless questions and surely didn't accept wrong answers.

"It's dangerous. Those creatures are disgusting, violent and shouldn't have the right to put the rest of us in danger."

His voice had a hard edge, so full of revulsion that she realized just how much she didn't know about him—she'd been so delusional to believe he could be the sweet, perfect boy she assumed he was—and before her mind could register her doing so, she clocked him in the face; a closed fist hook to the nose that had her wondering where all that energy had come from.

Her knuckles came in contact with his nose, allowing a cracking noise to sound around the walls, and he hurried to move away once her wand pointed at him. "What the fuck?" Amos shouted, hissing when he went to touch his nose, and completely unaware of the growing fur on his body that she'd quietly hexed him with.

He would figure it out as soon as he gained enough sense to realize that the fault wasn't in werewolves, but in his _mentality_.

"I clearly misunderstood what kind of person you were," she said, breathing heavily at the sudden rush of emotions. "But _don't_ think I'll accept this kind of behaviour from you. I'm _done_ with you. _Please_, rethink everything, and oh - my family might not be like what you think."

She swirled on the spot, gripping the edge of the window in support, before heading towards the door. She paused briefly when he spoke up for one final time:

"Your father probably died because of you."

A bitter, cracked smile slid on her face, even though he was facing her back. "He definitely did." Overwhelming grief leaked in her tone, but she left before he could say anything about it.

He had aimed enough shots through her heart.

* * *

_It was all because of you._ Those words echoed in her mind as Hermione doubled over, heaving into the sink and her body convulsing with tremors, choking and gagging on the contents of her stomach.

_No, it isn't_, Granger insisted fiercely, but her attempts were futile as Hermione shook her head frantically, desperate to slam every voice and sound out.

A chasm was being created, too close to the one over her heart, and she rubbed her arms in discomfort, sweating through the shivers that managed to seep through her chilled skin.

A warm hand appeared in the middle of her back, and for the first time that night, she welcomed the feel of comfort - one that she didn't have to beg for.

Eventually, she swayed on her feet and slowly slid to the floor, her hands loosening the tight grip on the rim of the sink, and her legs beginning to complain about the cold, dusty floor.

Through blurred eyes, she saw James kneel in front of her; messy, bed hair and askew glasses on the bridge of his nose that she was sure he'd moved all too quickly to put on.

He eventually sat besides her as she continued to breathe haggardly, and with the back of her hand, Hermione hastened to swipe away the tears that had leaked from the corners of her eyes.

Tonight, the nightmare—if it could even be called that simple, mere name—had consisted of loss, Tom Riddle, and one boy that she could no longer find herself to one day love.

She had wanted to know what was so special about love and what made it just so different from a mere crush. Hermione had wanted to know what she was missing out on.

She now thought that she'd been foolish to look for cub answers, when too much was already going on in her life. How could she ask for one more person to chance losing?

_Stop acting like Harry_, softly chided Granger, but Hermione didn't know who he was and did not care to listen.

"Do you want me to go get Sirius?"

She continued to stare ahead and shook her head, already aware of the fact that he was out somewhere, a girl in his arms. If that was how he was going to get his mind off Grimmauld Place, she didn't want to be the one to stop him. Not yet, at least.

James's breath left in a loud whoosh and his fingers moved to caress her knuckles, the burn in her skin slightly dimming as he did so. His touch was so light that she could hardly tell it was there.

"You hurt your hand." It wasn't a question, but she still whispered a hoarse answer in assent.

"I broke up with Amos—I broke his nose, too," she explained plainly and waited for her breathing to calm down, and for her chest to stop hurting so harshly.

"You _did?_" His voice held such a satisfied tone that he hurried to clear his throat. "I mean - I'm sorry, why?"

A small smile crept through her lips at the obvious dislike her best friend held for Amos, and she let out a short laugh, though it slowly turned into something much bitter. "Let's just say he loves someone like my _Mother_, and he doesn't realize that werewolves are human, except for one day a month."

"Well, somebody better tell him that Walburga is much worse than any magical creature," James muttered under his breath, and unable to resist the sudden rush of adoration she felt for him, Hermione turned towards him and scrambled to hug him tightly.

"You're terrible," she mumbled, her voice muffled through his sleepwear, but she knew he'd heard her regardless when she felt his chest rumble with laughter.

His hands went to hold her waist, and her veins pulsed with warmth and safety. "Hermione, I need you to help me with Charms."

Her brows knitted in confusion and leaned back to study his expression. James was watching her with such a flustered, yet earnest look that it managed to keep her smile from sliding off.

"You haven't asked for my help ever since first year," she reminded him, suspicion tinting her voice. She doubted he'd forgotten about being _frightfully_ chased by her, right after she'd taught him the Levitation Charm.

Godric, so much had changed since then.

"Uh—_well_, Moony has been so grumpy lately and you seem like you really need a distraction, so I," his voice cracked and he cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck with a half-smile, "I thought this would be a good idea, but I mean . . . if you don't want to, it's—"

"James," she cut him off, cupping his face in and relishing the soft feel of his skin, "I'll be more than happy to help you with _any_ class."

"Oh," he breathed out, hazel eyes gleaming with an indecipherable, intense glint. "_Right_ \- of course. Thank you."

She laughed, suddenly feeling lighter than she had in the past few weeks. Standing up and smoothing the wrinkles of her shorts, Hermione looked back at him and grinned. "No, thank _you_."

He followed to stand in front of her, and she couldn't help herself from ruffling his hair in gratitude, no matter how irritating he found the action.

"Cub, if you want to obsess over my hair, do it in your _sleep_," he complained morosely, enhancing his enlarged ego and cockiness.

_Idiot_, she thought fondly and wondered if Granger agreed with her.

_Oh - yes, what an idiot_, the older woman followed with an off note buried in her tone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy new year! I hope you have an amazing 2020, full of love, success, and good health. I'm also sorry for taking so long to update! I admit, I wasn't so sure on how to progress with the relationship between Hermione and James, while still maintaining a good, exciting slow burn.
> 
> Other than that, I also wanted to insist on the importance of the lessons Harry went through in HBP. The movie totally avoided Tom Riddle's whole story and it really upset me. Please, let me know what you think and if there's anything you want me to add!


	29. Hot and Cold

**January, 1976.**

It was too early to be outside, that much was obvious. Hidden under James's Invisibility Cloak, Hermione walked at a slow pace, choosing to focus on the peace that surrounded her. The morning air kissed her skin softly, wrapping her in its cool comfort. The soft rustle of ancient trees continued to fill the silence.

When the distant crunch of a twig mixed with the sound, she froze. She hadn't really brought the Marauder's Map with her, mostly because she didn't want to make too much noise as she left the dorm. Hermione had doubted anyone else would even be awake at dawn, let alone be walking towards the Quidditch Pitch.

It was ironic, really. For a sport she didn't really like, the setting was just about perfect. At this time of the day, she was free to sit anywhere and enjoy the quietness that followed the rise of the sun.

So, when she carefully continued to walk and her eyes found two distant figures, she tried as subtly as possible to not be noticed by them. Just a few feet away, their soft murmurs failed to catch her attention, until she thought she'd heard Regulus's name.

She held her breath, the Cloak allowing her to shamelessly eavesdrop on their conversation. With much less distance between them, she recognized both boys as Flint and Avery. The two Slytherins were seventh years, she believed. The smug looks they wore deeply unsettled her, as Avery continued to say, "He's being a pansy."

"I wouldn't put it past him to go running to the blood traitor," Flint told his friend, both now chuckling at whatever image that had formed in their minds.

Her lips pursed in a tight line, and she didn't bother following them back to the castle, opting to proceed with the destination she'd set in mind previously.

Entering through one of the doors, Hermione slipped inside the dark passage that connected to the numerous stands, divided into four parts that represented a particular House's colours. She'd never liked climbing up the stairs before the match, often despising the crowd that echoed in loud applauses and crass language.

She automatically made her way to her usual side, greeted with red and golden flashes as she climbed up - but not too far. Even with stairs, she was conscious of the height and the large distance that separated her feet from the ground.

Just as she looked up, she found someone else sitting in the same area. Finally reaching the spot, Hermione moved away from the stairs and slid in the space between the seats, gaze set on the black-haired boy as he stared ahead.

"You look quite lost," she said softly, careful not to startle him, and sat beside him. "The Slytherin side is way over there." She pointed her finger at the opposite side blindly, as the emerald colours could still not be seen in the low light.

Truth was that she hadn't seen him sit on those stands often, ever since his first year. He'd tried out for Slytherin a year later, the team managing to gain a brilliant Seeker. It had never been easy to watch Gryffindor-Slytherin matches. Her eyes had always struggled with darting between her two brothers, her heart clenched with worry.

She looked back at Regulus, whose grey eyes finally pinned on her. "I know," he murmured, his tone weary.

Hermione frowned. She knew why _she_ was awake so early, but he had no business being out on the grounds, especially in this cold. She pointed her wand at him—he didn't even flinch, she noticed—and used a Warming Charm in hopes of somehow improving his stay.

"Why aren't you asleep?" she asked, and her eyes roamed over his face, desperate to remember each line and detail she may have forgotten.

His posture was unusually hunched, and his cheeks almost no longer held any baby fat, resembling Sirius even more with his sharp cheekbones and jawline.

He looked away, visibly swallowing, and bringing her attention to the beautiful sight in front of her. Each line of cloud looked like the soft stroke of colours, shades of orange and blue swirled together. The contrast in their tones could be seen, cold and warm.

The bright orange streak of light reflected on Regulus's face, allowing her to notice the dark bags under his eyes. Her heart dropped at the sight - no matter whose fault it was, her little brother was alone, unlike her, who had Sirius's presence to comfort her.

Surprisingly enough, Regulus was the one to showcase his concern first, as he asked, "Are you okay?"

Her hands clasped together, she willed her eyes to ignore the prickle at the emotions that began to run wild within her. Hermione watched as the cold shade of blue started to fade, allowing a warmer light to be showcased.

"As okay as I can be." She adjusted in her seat with a stretch of her legs, her heels dragging across the cement pavement.

She hesitated, a brief pause settling in between them. Even its presence alone managed to be more responsive than her brother.

"I'm sorry," she said, voice clear and steady. "For everything that I have done to hurt you and your feelings."

He blinked for several long beats - an impassive stare fixed at her - before both expelled a tired sigh, shifting their gaze back to the sunrise.

He didn't speak again, and she let him be.

She drew a calming breath and her lids fluttered, hoping the gentle touch of the wind could carry her worries and sorrow away. Then again, she wished she could hand over her love to it, hoping it would enwrap Regulus in warmth, or the reminder that she will always have his back.

He was her family.

Eventually, he stood up and moved past her, quietly making his way out of the pitch. Hermione, though, stayed until her hands turned as blue as the cold tone of the sky.

In the midst of constellations, the night brought her one thing that the daylight might never manage to do: the brightest star in Leo.

* * *

As soon as Hermione caught his eye, she knew she'd failed to remember her lessons with him.

His dark gaze narrowed and had she been the same girl she'd been a few months ago, she would have hurried to break eye contact, especially recalling how he'd invaded her mind, in the same room.

But she knew he was a harmless boy. Sure, he was quite rude sometimes, but he wasn't nearly as dangerous as the other boys she'd seen in his House. Not to forget that he _did_ soften up to her before the break.

He would probably argue that she was being delusional. However, she was sure that it'll soon be so obvious that even he won't be able to deny it.

Hermione continued to sip on her coffee, letting out a sigh of delight against the lid of the cup. After the long night that had passed, she needed something strong that could get her through the day.

While Professor Dumbledore had yet to inform her when the next lesson was, she assumed she could practice Legilimency, instead. Perhaps, she should stop Snape on her way out.

Her drink caught in the back of her throat and she coughed over the now empty cup, her wide gaze landing on James and Lily as they walked side by side, seeming to be in quite an amicable conversation.

She could tell the redhead's lips were twitching to form a smile, while James looked like he was seconds away from messing up his hair, yet again. He wore a charming smile as he walked Lily to her usual seat, his hand on her back.

Her brows arched high on her forehead, and she slapped Sirius's arm to catch his attention, making his expression twist with annoyance.

When he finally complied and glanced away from his plate, his eyes seemed to become the size of saucers at the sight of the couple, just like hers had — or even similar to how most Gryffindors were reacting, at the moment.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" she asked incredulously, pinching his arm to check if it was all real. When he hissed, she nodded. _Definitely_ not a dream.

"What the hell—" he began, but she shushed him, hoping her ears would perk up to catch their conversation, even though she was in her human form.

Hermione could barely hear a thing, over the murmurs going around the table. Thoughtful, she twirled a lock of her hair. "Can you hear anything?"

Her brother shook his head, looking quite put out. "_Ugh_. Of all days, Moony wakes up late," he lamented, hitting his forehead against the table.

Shaking her head, she caught Marlene's eyes from across the table, the blonde's brow raised as a silent question passed between them.

Just what was going on here?

Sure, Hermione wasn't a big fan of gossip - not like her former roommates, anyways. Nonetheless, it didn't mean that she wasn't allowed to be curious over what her _best friend_ was up to.

_Or you could just go back to eating like a good girl_, Granger suggested in her head.

Hermione ignored her, leaning close to whisper in Sirius's ear, "Merlin, she nags like James's mother."

He cracked an eye open and peered at her, head now rested atop of his crossed arms. "Who? _Lily?_" he asked, horrified, knitting his brows together.

Rolling her eyes, she answered, "No. Granger. _Wait_ \- would that mean that I'm like that, too?" she whispered, horrified at the thought of berating like the older woman.

_Hey, now! I am a mom, but definitely not yours._

The image of a little boy, brown eyed and a mischievous smile at his lips, flashed in her mind. She caught his mop of red hair and wondered if his father was related to the Prewetts.

"Oh, she _does_ have a kid," she muttered out loud, surprised at the woman supplying an image that Hermione probably wasn't supposed to see.

Sirius snorted, now sitting up to nudge his plate of eggs with a fork, watching as the yolk moved like jelly. Giving her a sideways look, he said, "I don't envy you - an old woman sitting in your mind all day." He faked a shudder.

_He starts smoking cigarettes soon. Make sure that doesn't happen!_ Granger added once she'd heard him.

_Oh, I definitely will_, Hermione thought in her head, enthusiastic to learn at least one bit of his future.

To know that Sirius was going to risk his health, she was grateful to have the opportunity to stop it before he got too addicted.

Perhaps, she could find an alternative. Surely, there had to be some books on cigarettes in the library . . .

* * *

Hermione walked over to the back of the classroom, hopeful to get some sleep and that Professor Binns won't see her. Had it been any other day, she would have complained about the boys not paying attention, but there was _no_ way she could deal with History of Magic today.

A heavy ache pounded in her head, fighting for dominance against the painful cramps of her muscles.

With the topic being the Goblin Revolution—something she'd already learned four years prior—she sighed in relief and laid her head down on her textbook, closing her eyes.

She felt somebody get seated beside her, but even just to flutter her eyes open felt like a heavy chore, so she kept them shut, allowing her muscles to ease up, even if just a little.

Without the strain of her sense of sight, she was able to catch sounds louder than usual. Hermione heard the occasional rustle of paper, all too loud in the heavy silence that remained in this particular class.

Most students chose to sleep, others often doodled in their textbooks. She couldn't fathom what made them even _think_ of drawing on them. The most that should be added to a book was the streak of a highlighter, that too _only_ if one actually meant to study.

They shared the class with Hufflepuffs, who were more than willing to not cause any drama. Except for Diggory, of course, whose stink eye she had to bear when she entered the class.

At least, his nose still looked a bit swollen—something that Sirius hadn't failed to point out, quite loudly at that, a hint of pride in his voice.

A tap on her arm startled her, breaking any chance she had at getting some sleep. She began to lift her head, shooting James a fierce glare as dark spots swam in her vision. "What?"

He leaned back and balanced himself on the chair's back legs, an eyebrow raised at her. "You're sleeping."

"Does it look like I am?" Hermione snapped.

"No, right? Since you could never sleep in class," he reminded her, a grimace on his face at the constant wake up calls she'd given him in their earlier years.

It _was_ quite hypocritical of her.

Suddenly feeling thoroughly chastised, she thought of a way to keep his mind off her odd behaviour. "Right . . . why don't you tell me how you managed to have an actual conversation with Lily?"

Behind his glasses, the corners of his bright, hazel eyes crinkled at his wide smile. "Oh, the usual, y'know. I said, 'hello' and she said, 'hello back.'"

Not wanting to press her doubt on it actually having happened, she instead asked, "What about Goldstein?"

"I broke it off with her last night, right after dinner," he admitted with a dismissive wave of his hand, now glancing above her head and nodding at Sirius. Her brother's mouth was slightly open, letting out soft snores as he leaned against the wall.

If Professor Binns saw him, he definitely didn't say anything.

She glanced back at James as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "She didn't really care, but Padfoot told me that he'll _heal_ her broken heart, anyways."

Hermione gave him a nod as she yawned, which he took as an opportunity to add something. "I convinced Lily to meet up after Divination."

With her mouth still open, she paused and figured it wouldn't do him any good to show her skeptical look. She clamped it shut so fast that a _'click'_ sounded in her jaw.

_Ouch_.

She did the only thing she could think of at the time - she gave him a small smile. She was sure it came out tired and might've wavered a bit, but it was the effort that counted - no matter how mediocre.

"That's great, James! I bet she'll realize how wrong her opinion of you was."

At the pleased grin she received, she mentally patted her back. As Hermione settled her head on the table again, using her arms as a prop, she thought she'd heard Granger say something along the lines of something being too early.

Gritting her teeth tightly—also, why did Sirius have to snore so bloody loudly?—she tried desperately to reach out to a peaceful slumber.

_That's bad for your teeth_, Granger said, startling Hermione at her loud appearance. She was still getting used to it, but she admitted that she was grateful for Granger . . . very deep down. She just wished she could stop talking now.

* * *

"Stop looking so sour," Marlene chided, a silly smile on her face that contradicted her stern tone. She had her arm looped with Hermione's, making sure they walked far away from the library.

She may think she was being subtle, but Hermione knew what she was doing before she even did it.

"I look just fine," she huffed, hoping the blonde wouldn't psychoanalyze her and end up with a silly assumption. The last thing she needed was Marlene to think that she was crying over her breakup.

"Well, Diggory clearly doesn't share the same answer," Marlene retorted with a snort, a proud smile sliding up her face. She sniffed dramatically, wiping away invisible tears. "Aren't you just my little, strong baby with that right hook of yours."

Too focused on giving Marlene a slow, dramatic roll of her eyes, Hermione hadn't realized someone was coming her way until she collided into something hard, her bag dropping to the floor at the sheer force.

"I'm sorry," she hurried to say, not bothering to look up as she knelt down and hastily put her belongings back inside her bag.

"You should be," a familiar voice complained, and her head snapped up in panic, relaxing only when she saw Benjy's amused grin. Now hyper-aware of her surroundings, she willed her hands to stop shaking.

He didn't notice them—or chose not to point them out, as he joined her on the floor, handing back a few notes that had flown away.

She put the last quill in her bag and rose, clasping her hands tight and sending him a strained smile. It felt foreign on her lips, but she _was_ still glad to see him.

Hermione watched as he greeted Marlene, shaking her hand enthusiastically and causing the blonde's cheeks to heat up. There was _a lot _of energy in that scrawny body of his.

"It's good to see you," she told him, once he's glanced at her again. She was glad to finally catch a glimpse of him, after so long. "I never got the chance to study with you. I'm so sorry — lately, I seem to go there at odd times . . ."

Benjy cut her off with a casual wave of his hand. "_Nah_, don't worry. Are you coming tomorrow?"

"If she were to stop going to the library, even for just one day, you would know there's something wrong with her. _Of course_, she is," Marlene answered for her, a tinge of fond amusement in her voice.

He guffawed loudly and turned his friendly gaze towards her friend. "Alright. Are you coming too, McKinnon?"

"What?" squeaked Marlene, looking as though she'd been caught off guard. She shook her head slowly. "Not really."

"That's fine," he told her with a sweet smile, and his blue eyes eventually darted between the two. "Well, see you ladies!"

With that, he swivelled on his feet and walked away, a happy whistle playing at his lips. Hermione bit down a chuckle at his behaviour, glancing over at Marlene with a raised brow, noticing her friend's starstruck look. Never had she seen her friend so flustered, that too because of a _boy_.

"That's one fit boy," Marlene finally announced, moving her hands around wildly, hoping to enhance the apparent beauty of her brand-new crush.

"You've got a few months to woo him," Hermione told her wryly, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "He's in his seventh year."

Marlene began to stare longingly at his retreating form, and she shook her head, amused.

A timid Gryffindor caught her attention as he approached her, giving her a shaky smile. Unsure on how to act—her little brother had never seemed like . . . well, an actual kid—she tried a tentative smile, hoping it looked as gentle as she'd intended.

"Mr. Sirius has sent me," he told her, mixed with an odd solemn tone. Before she could open her mouth and ask just what her brother might be doing, he spoke again. "He said he needs his sister, because James is acting like an idiot."

"Not my words!" he hurried to add, looking frightened at the thought of angering her.

"Don't worry, and thank you for the message," she told him, though she hated the way Sirius had used a little kid to look for her. He could've very well just used his own feet to inform her of anything.

The boy scrambled on his feet, walking away to catch up to his group of friends, them waiting for him with teasing grins. Letting out a resigned sigh, she gave Marlene the usual look, and the blonde knew better than to ask questions.

.

With her bag swung over her shoulder, Hermione hurried to the Common Room, slowing down only for a second when a Prefect told her to watch where she was going. She scowled, a pang of jealousy resonating through her at the reminder of owning no badge.

Granted, she would've had no time for Prefect duties with everything that went on this year, but even Professor McGonagall couldn't deny that Hermione was a somewhat responsible student.

Well - at least, _Remus_ has received the reward for his good grades.

The Fat Lady swung the doors open, and she slipped in quietly, her gaze sweeping over the number of students that had chosen to study by the fireplace. Once she stopped staring longingly at the cozy setting, she took the usual journey up the staircase, pausing briefly when she heard one of the boys from afar.

Once she reached the familiar door, she turned the knob to finally reveal the utter chaos that had been created.

"What's going on here?" she demanded, her voice shrill, sounding an awful lot like Professor McGonagall. Painfully slow, the four boys whirled around to look at her, standing on top of their own mattress with dishevelled hair and wide eyes.

Her feet moved against the sea of white feathers—_they'd wasted so many pillows_—and she fisted her hands on her hips, hoping they would answer once they noticed the change in her stance.

"_Black Wreck_ is coming for us," whispered Peter, dropping his pillow and raising his hands in surrender, even as Remus wisely informed him that it wouldn't do much to save him now.

Finally, Sirius hopped off his bed, almost tripping on air when a sudden pillow hit his head. She glared at James, who looked nowhere close to apologetic. "Don't do that!"

Shifting her gaze back to her brother, Hermione cocked a brow, tapping on her foot impatiently as she waited for an explanation.

"We have a problem," stated Sirius, his voice strained.

She expelled a loud sigh, looking at her brother tiredly. "Let me guess. _You_ caused it?"

His eyes widened, starting to resemble the look of an innocent little child. "No, _of course _not. Prongs, here—"

"Why does it always start with James's name?" she asked, exasperated.

Remus jumped in Sirius's defense. "That's because it _is_ because of him."

"Evans has turned him into a delusional ponce!" Sirius finished, throwing his arms in the air in distress.

Her brow knitted, she bit her lip as her gaze slid over to where James sat. The boy looked agitated—or excited, she wasn't sure. He definitely seemed to have consumed too much sugar.

"She didn't hurt you, did she?" she asked, concern leaking sharp at the thought of the redhead going too far.

"Of course not!" James protested, indignant as though she'd deeply insulted a part of him. "Hermione, you won't believe what happened."

"By now, I can believe just about anything," she muttered under her breath, a wry tone that masked her bitterness. James didn't say anything at that, and she felt grateful for it, knowing that he'd always been sensible enough not to comment on certain things.

While he may insist that he had no tact, she would argue that he had just enough, perhaps even more than needed. For someone who was so confident and cocky, he sure often looked like he wasn't aware of his own qualities.

"I asked Evans on a date," he blurted out, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Giving him a bewildered look, she walked towards her bed and plopped down, suddenly overcome with a tight, hot ache in her bones. "You've been doing that for five years."

"Lily agreed to give him a chance, this time," Peter added quickly, proceeding to wince at the look James sent him for interrupting his announcement.

Her mouth opened and closed around words that refused to part from her lips. That was unexpected to say the least. Sure, he'd told her about their interaction from earlier, but wasn't it going _too_ fast? Considering the numerous times the boy had confessed his feelings for her, the redhead had never reacted this well.

Be it the bouquet of lilies for Valentine's day—that too, _every_ _single_ _year—_or the way he always offered her a scarf, whenever they had classes outside and it got exceptionally cold. Lily had always proceeded to sprout nonsensical insults at him, often even shooting him a light hex.

Her face screwed up as she looked up to meet his eyes. His waiting, and _very_ excited hazel gaze.

"Are you sure she said yes?" she asked, sounding too dubious even to her own ears. Hermione was happy for him, she supposed. He'd been waiting for a chance for too long, and while she didn't like how bad Lily had treated him, she was glad that it'd all been worth it.

"Yes, Cub. You believe me, don't you?" His eyes shone with an endearing joy, and he gave her that hopeful look of his—one that even _she_ couldn't deny.

"Yes, I do," she grounded firmly, glancing at the rest of the boys with exasperation. "You guys could've just asked him if it really happened, instead of attacking all those _pillows!_"

James started sputtering in protest, "Hey, now. _I_ was attacked, not the pill—_ow!_ You'll pay for that, Hermione."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to edit this chapter a few times, but I hope you liked it! Feel free to let me know what you think.


	30. Wolfish Heart

**January, 1976.**

Lily peered at the boy in front of her, her eyes dancing around his face, and then to his outfit. It was a normal, black sweatshirt and yet, he was making it look _so_ good.

Even now, she couldn't believe that she had given him a chance. Throughout the week, Severus had proceeded to point out just how many times James Potter had messed with him. Not to mention how much of a cocksure he was, arrogant and boastful to a level that rivalled that of Sirius Black.

The only humble ones in that friend group of his were Remus, Peter . . . and _Hermione Black_, she supposed.

She knew that the girl had a hand at whatever change she'd brought in Potter, because Lily had managed to notice _several_ changes in him this year.

Not only had he stopped tormenting her best friend with irritating pranks, he now also resembled a sensible boy, one to no longer be bothered by House rivalry.

And how could she have rejected his proposition, when she'd felt so miffed at the sight of him snogging Goldstein senseless? She couldn't deny the jealousy that had run prickly under her skin, a harsh reminder of the quietness that followed the last time he'd confessed his feelings.

She had feared that perhaps, there was a chance he'd moved on - that his head would no longer shoot up at her entrance.

Lily had to give him a chance, so that she wouldn't drown in regret, later on. "I had fun today," she commented lightly, pleased with the way his eyes immediately sought hers. "Did you?"

He scoffed, an easygoing smile playing at his lips. "Of course, I did."

She raised a brow. "Even the book shopping?"

They'd run into Black, whose book had slipped from her hands once Potter approached her from behind to scare her. The girl had then started to throw lighthearted insults at the boy, not glancing her way once.

When Lily had finally joined Potter's side, Hermione had attempted a smile, though it looked more of a grimace. She hadn't seen the brunette smile much, ever since coming back from the break.

Potter had picked up the book and when Hermione had asked him to give it back, he'd thought it would be a good idea to back away from the frustrated girl. They'd ended up bickering for some more time, before the shop owner had thrown them out, muttering something along the lines of 'magnets to disaster' and such.

James coughed into his fist. "That wasn't great, but . . . we could try another time?"

He let the question hang in the air for a while, and Lily stifled a laugh when she tilted her head and asked, "What? Being kicked out of Tomes and Scrolls again?"

He shook his head, full of unruly, black curls, and grinned. "Maybe not that, but y'know what I mean. Another date."

Pressing her sweaty hands against her jeans, she held her breath before it left in a whoosh. "I would like that."

* * *

_Tom Riddle._

_Hermione recognized the man the moment she saw him, even through the now pale, sickly tone of his skin. His eyes seemed to have turned into a permanent crimson colour, while his handsome features had turned into something close to serpentine-like._

_Her head whirled as her ears caught the distinct sound of footsteps. A masked figure walked over to Riddle, a cruel smile visible as the young boy bowed. "My Lord."_

_Riddle's long, thin fingers levitated a golden cup in between them. The item had two handles on each side, and if she focused hard enough, she could tell that there was something engraved on it—_

_"This cup's responsibility lies with you. I assume that you have a perfect place in mind to keep it hidden."_

_The sight lurched something inside her, and the last thing she saw was the haunting look on Riddle's face._

Her hands moved mechanically and reached under her pillow, finding her journal and quill without a second glance.

Hermione tried to sketch the cup as best as she could. If this weren't a nightmare but a vision, it meant that the event would soon occur, one where Riddle will assign a seemingly important task.

She scowled and peered at the bunch of notes she'd made and before she could shut the book, she caught something on the very first page. It was the beginning of her records, a similar cup drawn hastily.

She could easily recall that dream, even though it had happened in her first year. There had been a man who _did_ talk about a cup, mentioning how it must be hidden. She couldn't remember whose face it had been, as she'd been more focused on his words, instead.

_It must be hidden._

Biting the inside of her cheek, she figured that if that man had been Riddle, there was just one person she could reach out to - to get more information from the inside.

After all, Granger had refused to tell her if she'd recognized the cup. _Professor Dumbledore's orders. I am unable to say anything at all_, she said.

Hermione slid the curtains open, noting how the sun was starting to rise much sooner as the days passed by - to think that spring had yet to even come.

Her hands dove into her bag, and she blindly reached for a piece of parchment. When her fingers finally wrapped around the fresh paper, she brought them up and closed the zipper, walking back to her bed.

Using the hard journal as a surface, she put the parchment on top and began to write, hesitating only briefly when her thoughts began to muddle, swirling in concern or curiosity.

Finally setting her quill down, she folded the paper neatly and slipped her feet into her warm slippers. She shuffled across the room, leaving for the Owlery before she could think of going at a more appropriate time.

.

The cold and drafty Owlery was by far Hermione's least favourite room in the entire castle, and that said a lot, considering the overwhelming humidity in the dungeons, whenever she had Potions class.

Hermione remembered that one time, Peter had been so frightened by the dead rats he'd found in the corners, that he'd refused to ever come back up in the West Tower. She had been the only one willing to help him, coming up to send his letters away for him.

Careful to avoid the owl droppings—it was a rather useless attempt—she moved over to James's new owl, the one he'd gotten this year, after he was done dealing with the family owl's temper.

He was one, spoiled child.

The snowy, white owl though, she was a beautiful one. Her wings looked all too gentle, and she was filled with warmth for almost everyone, _especially_ Hermione as she never failed to give her a treat.

Eris sat one of the perches, nestled with snow that matched the colour of her feathers.

"Hey," she whispered, her hand gently caressing the top of her head as Eris tilted it in acknowledgment.

She allowed the owl to pick up the letter from her upturned palm. "I need you to send this to Malfoy manor, please."

Even though her legs were hidden under her plumage, she was sure that Eris was now standing up, ready to do as assigned. Like the intelligent owl she was, she dipped her head at Hermione once more, before moving to fly away.

_Does it have to be them? Of all people, you could contact_, Granger complained, not keeping her displeasure for the Malfoys hidden at all.

_They are not the same people from your dimension_, Hermione insisted, making sure to add, _Besides, it's not like you've met Abraxas in your time, and you still haven't told me what happens to him._

He'd probably died if Granger hadn't met him in her lifetime. But then again, they lived in _alternate_ dimensions. Hermione wanted to manage to save at least _one_ person—how was that irresponsible of her?

When she heard a noise from behind, she whirled around to find Remus standing across the room, blue pajamas still in show as blonde strands stuck out on his head.

"Did you follow me here?" she asked, the owl droppings now forgotten as she approached him with wide eyes.

Even in the bleak light of the room, she could see bright red spots on his cheeks. He shrugged, giving her a penetrating stare. "I just wanted to make sure you were fine."

Balling her hands into tight fists, she fought with her loud heart to come up with a careful answer that wouldn't give away anything.

"I just needed to send a letter," she muttered, tugging at his arm to get them back to their dorm.

He made a strangled noise, glancing down at her—just how did everyone manage to be so tall?—and he laid his arm around her shoulders.

"And it couldn't wait?"

Not bothering to look away from the corridor in front of them, she narrowed her eyes. "No, it could not."

They moved in silence, waiting patiently for the staircase to move them towards their Common Room, even as the Fat Lady loudly complained of being constantly awakened at awful times.

Hermione made to walk up the boys' dormitory, but before her feet could even touch the first step on the small staircase, soft fingers latched around her wrist and she craned her head, looking back at Remus curiously.

"Remus?"

He hesitated, if only just briefly. His eyes dragged over the lines of her face, surely stopping for an awfully long time at the dark bags under her eyes. "You know I can hear everything with my ears, right?"

She nodded slowly at that, waiting for him to continue.

"Moony—or, I guess it _is_ just me—I can tell when someone's lying by the beat of their heart."

Eyes wide, she felt numb with shock. It took everything in her not to suck in a breath, cursing his super sensory perception as she moved backwards, hitting the first step with the back of her foot.

How could she have forgotten about that?

_I didn't think about that, either_, Granger muttered thoughtfully.

"_Oh_," she managed lamely. She shrugged his hold off her and folded her arms across her chest defensively. "What are you trying to say?"

"I—" he paused, his jaw clenched tight, "I'm not forcing you to say anything, nor do I want to take advantage of this - this _thing_ that comes with Lycanthropy, but I hope you know that you can talk to me, you know?

"I've waited since first year, and I'm willing to wait longer, if you need to, if not forever. I just want to make sure you're alright."

She opened her mouth, lips already forming around to say that she was fine, but he cut her off before she could even force a sound out. "And don't lie like you usually do, because I'd rather have you not say anything at all, than force yourself to be fine for others."

Her mouth pulled into a half-smile and she peered at him, a grateful look on her face. "Thank you, and . . . one day, Moony. One day, I'll tell you _everything_."

He gave her a firm nod, already ridding himself of the serious expression with a whole set of teeth showing, emphasizing her wolfish friend's wolfish smile.

_He seems to take very good of his teeth. My parents would be proud—they're dentists, or teeth healers if you will_, Granger went on to ramble, much to Hermione's amusement.

"Now, between you and me, you look like you need it more, but _still_. I'd like some sleep for more than an hour or two," he announced, already brushing past her and climbing up the stairs.

"Oh, Remus. You and me _both_."

* * *

The response to her letter came sooner than expected, even if it was in an unusual way.

James had mentioned his struggle in Charms again, reminding her of the promise she'd given to help the boy in that class. So many things had happened since and sometimes, it felt like too much—even for someone like Hermione—to handle. While essays _were_ easy to write on the first day itself, what of training, lessons on a Dark wizard, and such?

She shook herself out of her thoughts, looking back at her best friend, who sat on a chair by the fireplace. His legs were sprawled out and his glasses were slightly askew like always.

Hermione arched a brow, a now rare, sly smirk growing on her lips. "Lily is too good for you?"

He gave her a slow, dramatic roll of eyes and scoffed. "Lily is perfect, but I asked you for help, did I not?"

She picked at the lint on her sweatpants absentmindedly, peering back at him with a silly smile. "I guess. Well - we should head to the library, shouldn't we?"

With a dramatic shudder, he got on his feet and groaned loudly. "Can't wait to deal with Madam Pince."

"She's just fine. It's you guys always messing around the place, whenever you visit—"

Heels clicked loudly once the doors swung open, and Hermione whirled around to find Professor McGonagall as she walked towards them.

After a scrutinizing look meant for James, the older woman glanced at her, lips pressed thinly. "Miss Black, I am allowing you to take the fire-call, due to what happened over the break, but do not make it a habit."

Her brows shot up to her hairline, uncertain of what the teacher was talking about. "Professor, forgive me but . . . _what_ are you talking about?"

Professor McGonagall's face remained impassive, if not stern. "Mr. Malfoy has deemed it necessary to talk to you."

"Which one?" James asked from behind, looking unbothered at butting in the conversation.

"Abraxas," the gray-haired witch pursed her lips and she continued, "but his son seems to be nearby. Now, if you will."

The Head of Gryffindor stepped aside, as if to wordlessly inform Hermione of how she must hurry before she could berate her for making anyone wait.

.

Hermione wandered down the first-floor corridor, and she quietly slipped inside the office, making sure to shut the door behind her. Her gaze swept over the room, not surprised to find it neat and minimalistic.

The beige walls accompanied large windows that overlooked the Training Grounds—Minerva McGonagall was after all, an avid Quidditch fan herself—and Hermione knew there had to be her bedroom, here somewhere.

_The door to it is concealed_, Granger informed her.

A large fireplace by the sofa chair caught her attention, and her feet moved closer to it, kneeling on the red carpet to find two familiar faces through the fire.

Due to the bright, orange colour, she couldn't really determine how Abraxas must be doing, but she was content to see him, anyways.

Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand . . .

"Can you get on with it, or are you going to stare at us with that stupid look of yours?" Malfoy snapped, as though he wanted to be anywhere else but with Hermione.

She raised her brow at that. "Abraxas, how are you doing?"

The older man sent her a small smile. "How do you think I am? As if a Malfoy could be anything but well."

She snorted as she sat down, crossing her legs. "Whatever you say."

"However, how are _you?_ Your father . . . he—"

She cut him off, putting up a tired hand. "You know, you don't have to say anything nice about him, if you don't mean it." She shrugged evasively, gaze dropping to the carpet. "I'm alright, but I doubt that's what Malfoy wants to talk about."

"Absolutely," the younger Malfoy deadpanned. She stifled a smile—she was starting to like riling him up—and looked up at the fire.

"Right. I take it you've read my description of the dream? I need to know if your Dark Lord has assigned anything important yet."

Malfoy flinched at the reminder of his master, and while she was somewhat reassured at his will of helping her, she was still mighty wary of him.

"No, but he has often been disappearing for long periods of time. The last time we got to see him, it was after the . . . _encounter_ with your family."

"Not my family," she remarked casually, still emphasizing each word, even as they both eyed her with a calculating gaze. "Can you let me know when he comes back?"

"Why? Are you inviting him for tea?"

Rolling her eyes, she huffed, "Of course not. I'm more of a coffee person, but perhaps you'd be desperate enough to hang out with Vold—"

"That's enough. While I find the banter between the two of you entertaining, I am much more concerned with whatever you're doing, Hermione," Abraxas said, cutting in with an imposing voice.

She quietly scoffed. If he had that much power, he should be focused on finding the cure of whatever disease he had.

"I'm fine, _really_. I just have to kill a monster that definitely knows how to fight better than me." Her tone was lighthearted, nothing like the message it contained.

She could see that Abraxas had now narrowed his eyes at her. "Dumbledore hasn't taught you anything, yet?" he asked, anger leaking in sharp and clear.

Of course, Hermione didn't hesitate to jump in defense of the Headmaster. "He said he's looking for someone to train me. Someone he can trust."

Still doubtful, Abraxas offered, "Let me know if he takes too long. I'll have Lucius train you."

Pursing her lips, her gaze briefly darted over to the quiet man as she feigned shock. "Do you _not_ remember me telling you of how much better I am than your son?"

"Ah, yes. I remember that cheek of yours, as well," Abraxas told her, his tone melancholic, as though he missed those times.

Hermione wasn't sure _she_ did—the punishment was all she could really think of—but, she _was_ grateful for the fateful meeting that had inspired the man to write to her.

"I'm sure Narcissa makes a lovely cup of tea," she reassured with a wry grin, though she could tell Malfoy wasn't taking it all too kindly.

"Don't say anything about my fiancé," he warned, a deep scowl fixed on his face.

A knock called for her attention, and she craned her neck to check if it was still closed. She looked back at the Malfoys and tilted her head. "Looks like I have to go, but let me know if I'm invited to the wedding."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Malfoy muttered under his breath just as both of their faces disappeared behind the fire.

Her chest felt lighter, at ensuring that Abraxas was still - well, _alive_. Rising from her seat, she reached for the door in long, hurried strides.

"I'm sorry for making you wait, Professor," she said, moving past her to slip out of the room. She was just a few feet away when her name was called once more.

"Miss Black—_Hermione_, if there's anything I can help you with, do let me know."

She turned on the spot with a small smile. "Thank you, Professor." Hermione realized that after all, she wasn't that alone in this fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tears of Phoenix now has thirty chapters, and there are many others to come! I'm not sure when the next one will be written, but I hope it doesn't take too long. It's just that my exams are starting next week.
> 
> Anyways, feel free to let me know what you think about the chapter, or even just the story in general!


	31. Guilty Secrets

**January, 1976.**

The chair's legs screeched against the floor and Hermione lifted her head, several tendrils of hair falling across her face. With a frustrated swipe of her hand, they no longer blocked her eyes and she finally found Snape seated right across her.

It was silent. not a word uttered between them as they sat there, staring. A little hesitantly, she offered, "Hello?"

Of course, Hermione shouldn't have expected a _'Hi, hello - how are you?'_. However, he also shouldn't have greeted her with the invasion of her mind, clear in his search for her memories.

Getting over the ache in her head quicker than ever, she fought to keep her walls up, focusing on the gentle splash of water that hit the giant towers of grass. She was sure she had the most poetic use of Occlumency, even in moments of panic and surprise.

"I guess you are not a lost cause, after all," he drawled, eyeing her carefully. His eyes dropped to her forearm and she froze, heart stuck in the back of her throat.

She should not be ashamed, she reminded herself. There was nothing wrong with having a scar—many more would come in the future, anyways.

And yet, she could not get used to the awful sight that greeted her every time she looked at the scarred skin. The letters were not fading, and they couldn't even be hidden by a Glamour Charm.

Shaking herself out of such thoughts, she pulled her bottom lip into a pout. "_Of course_, I'm not. I don't know what could even influence you to think that."

"Your group of friends," he answered flatly, as if the Marauders, of all people, could affect her brilliancy.

Unable to hold back a snort, she replied, "If that were the case, don't you think I'd have managed to improve their studies as well?"

"Or perhaps, they lack the brains for it. Of course, Potter made it clear of how brawny he is in our first year."

Her muscles tensed and before she knew it, she was leaning against the edge of the table, moving closer to the Slytherin. "Don't talk about him like that."

"What? Do you think I'm the only one who believes that? Lily did too, until your best friend brainwashed her," he said, an off note buried in his voice.

_He's riling you up. Don't listen to him_, Granger warned in her head, and Hermione drew a steadying breath, settling back into her chair comfortably. "You sure sound heartbroken," she mused quietly, eyeing him appraisingly.

He ran his hand across his eyes and gave a humorless laugh. "I'm _concerned_."

She gave him a scrutinizing look, barely holding back the roll of her eyes. Sometimes, she forgot how easy it was to get lost in teenage drama; pining, jealousy, and all. It sure made her feel old, for some reason.

"You don't have to worry about her getting hurt. James already loves her more than anyone in the world."

"Right." He sounded as though the words had been pulled from his throat by Padfoot's claws. Hence, he surely didn't mind changing the subject. "You told me to write during break."

"I did," she said, recalling how different everything had been at the time, even though it was just a month ago. "Things happened, so I couldn't follow my own order but _hey_, you didn't either."

He exhaled a loud breath. "Things happened for me, too—" Snape cut himself off, his eyes rooted above her head and just as she craned her neck, she was greeted with the call of her name.

"Hermione!"

James was leaning against the staircase, hands tucked in the pockets of his Gryffindor robes, showcasing the proud colours of the House without a care of the Slytherin that sat across her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him as though she could see whatever he had in mind.

"I see how much I'm wanted here. It sure pains me, Hermione!" he cried, pretending to be vastly wounded, clutching at his chest dramatically before promptly straightening up and walking towards their table.

Somewhere across the room, she could hear the loud reprimands of Madam Pince, but she found Snape's reaction much more worthy of attention. She had half expected him to leave immediately, but obviously the lack of pranks he'd been receiving from the boys had done him some good.

He was, after all, softening up to her too, so she couldn't wait to see Sirius braiding his hair. There was no way Hermione was going to let go of that bet.

Ignoring James as he plopped down in the seat next to her, she stared at the Slytherin and gauged for something - _anything_.

He narrowed his gaze at her and Hermione cleared her throat. Somehow, the silence that fell upon the three felt heavier than any tension that had first been placed between the two rivals.

Finally, James was the first one to speak up. "Remus told me that I could find you here."

"Yes, yes," she waved her hand in front of him, "whatever did you need from me?"

"Help in Charms, remember?" he asked, his brows knitted together as he stared at her.

Her gaze flicked to Snape, who was looking at the other boy with wide eyes. He sought her gaze and asked, "_You're_ helping him? And what of Lily?"

She made a face, resisting the urge to slam her head against the hard surface of the table. Unable to do so without looking like she'd lost her mind, she compromised with the grit of her teeth.

"It's _tutoring_, Snape. It's not like I'm going to seduce James with essays and have him hurt your smart, little redhead," she said in exasperation.

"_My_ redhead," James corrected her, looking totally unapologetic as he said so.

Snape's scrutinous glare flitted to her best friend, lips folded into a tight line as he stood and grabbed his black, worn out bag. His gaze met hers and she received a nod of acknowledgment before he left their 'mind corner' in silence.

"What a git."

After a kick on his shins, she threw him a fierce glare. "He didn't even say anything to you!"

"_Ow!_ Whatever," he grumbled, leaning back against the chair and crossing his ankles in front of one another. "I'll try to be nice for Lily's sake."

And yet, she had been asking him to do that for _years_, Hermione thought sourly.

_No_ \- bitter thoughts were _not_ allowed, even over her best friend and his relationship. At the very least, the redhead had begun to join them during meals, visibly trying to refrain from insulting them like she usually would.

_You have to understand that Prof—Snape is her best friend_, Granger argued. _She's not going to be fond of your friends._

Mentally sending a noise of acknowledgement to the woman, Hermione shifted forward and looked at the pending homework that James had yet to complete.

There was _a lot_ that needed to be done.

.

An hour had passed with Hermione going over their Charms textbook and James attempting to memorize each spell meticulously. She was rather glad that he hadn't tested her patience today.

Expelling a heavy sigh, she glanced at the boy and tried to clear her mind. Her thoughts were starting to muddle, most likely due to her lack of sleep. Her knuckles massaged her lids, unrealistic hopes of ridding the sharp pain that was starting to grow behind her eyes.

"You really need to get some sleep."

She blinked several times before her sight could focus on James, who was now staring back at her with an unfathomable expression.

She bit back a groan, knowing exactly that one day, she would no longer be able to hide anything from the boys. Remus had already caught her once, and there were some things that she hadn't even told _Sirius_ yet.

The thought pulled at her heart, but she couldn't dispel her doubts; the possibilities haunted her mind at how he could be at risk because of her.

And the last thing she needed was James to follow her around like a loyal puppy, all because he had caught onto one of her lies.

"Don't worry about me," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes one last time before drawing her hands back to her lap.

Everything was catching up to her—there were so many things still left to do—why hadn't Professor Dumbledore called her yet?—

She squeezed her eyes shut, lips swollen from how hard she'd bit them. She waited for Granger to whisper sweet words, alleviating whatever panic that had begun to grow. Yet, this time it was different.

_My daughter isn't weak._ This wasn't Granger. The voice was deep and comforting, heavy with emotions. It could almost lull her to sleep. _It's going to be okay._

Hermione was sure she was going crazy. She hadn't even realized James had gotten up, not until she felt his warm hands on her shoulders, shaking them lightly as he called out to her. "Cub, are you okay?"

The squeeze at her heart urged her to open her eyes and she did—how could she not, when she'd heard such clear panic in his voice—and for the first time, she noticed the softest brown infused with green in his eyes.

Hazel eyes were very pretty, she decided at once, along with that maybe — just _maybe_, it really was going to be okay. Even when everything felt like such an absolute mess.

"I heard my father's voice," she explained, her voice void of emotion.

James looked unsure, scratching the back of his head like he often did during their tutoring sessions, and it reminded her of a brilliant way to change the subject before it took a bad turn.

"We can continue with Charms after dinner, okay?"

He nodded, a short huff escaping his mouth as he stretched his legs and stood up. "That would be nice."

* * *

It was anything but nice.

When Hermione had offered to come back to it, she hadn't meant it with additional company.

Lily sat besides James, looking up from her notes more than once to smile softly at her boyfriend.

_They're adorable_, Granger commented, and Hermione barfed in her mouth a little. They were anything but cute. At least, they weren't kissing in front of—_oh, never mind._ They just did.

Had it not been Lily, who had complained about PDA and such?

Now, it was only fair that she immediately waved over at Benjy, who she found entering the library from the corner of her eyes. The boy beamed at her and merrily walked to their table.

"Hey, Hermione!" He sat on the seat beside her, dropping his bag to the floor with a loud thud.

She gave him a light laugh. "I was going to ask if you'd like to join us, but seeing the way you're already here . . . I got my answer."

"Right, sorry." Benjy stood up and looked down at her with a wry grin. "May I have this seat, _Madam?_"

"Of course, _Good Sir_," she snipped, biting down a wide smile.

When she glanced back at the couple, their jaws slack and brows almost shot up to their hairline, she rolled her eyes. "You look like you've seen a Basilisk," she joked, unsure as to why she'd mentioned the creature, until Granger supplied her with the terrifying image of a large snake, with bright yellow eyes.

Did fighting venomous, deadly creatures come with the whole defeating Voldemort thing, or was it more of a pastime for the woman?

"A what?" James shook his head, shifting his attention towards Benjy, instead. "James Potter," he told him rather arrogantly.

The seventh year merely smiled. "Benjy Fenwick and like I told Hermione, I'd be a fool not to know who the famous Marauders are."

Her best friend flashed him a smug, bashful smile and ran a hand through his black, untidy locks. "I think I like you."

Lily cleared her throat, catching both boys' attention. "Lily Evans."

It took a moment, then there was a glimmer of realization in his eyes. "It's an honour to finally meet the love of Mr. Potter's life."

James groaned. "Don't call me that. I'm not as old as my dad."

Hermione mindlessly picked up a quill, intent on finishing up her essay as the chatter continued, but it seemed someone else had other intentions. Her brows furrowed when she heard Lily hiss, "James! Don't be so insensitive."

Her eyes shot up and she fixed her gaze on the Prefect. "Why do you think he was being insensitive?"

"Well . . . your _dad—_"

Hermione's face twisted on the side and she shook her head adamantly. "I'd rather not hear about him _directly_."

_You didn't even know him at all_, she wanted to say. But then again, who really knew him?

Still, the thought of him pulled at her insides, and she wished her brother was there to ease the pain. Where was he, anyways?

_He wasn't at dinner either_, Granger pointed out.

"Hermione?"

Her gaze snapped back towards Benjy and she sent him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I blanked out for a moment. Have you seen Sirius?"

He shook his head, and she turned her attention to the couple, who looked equally confused on the other Black's whereabouts.

"I haven't seen Padfoot since this morning," James noted in a slow voice, a small furrow between his brows as he stared at her intensely. "Why don't you check the map?"

Hermione half-heartedly listened as Lily's questions began, asking about what map he was talking about. She couldn't however ignore the panic that started to blossom in the pit of her stomach, leading her to rise from her seat and grab her bag hastily.

"I'm going to find Sirius," she told them as she drew a calming breath, hurrying to collect her belongings and stuff them inside.

"Should I—" James began, but when she threw him a brief glance, his mouth seemed to be sealed shut, so she let him be.

He had to stay with Lily, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I was starting to wonder if you guys like shorter chapters better, or prefer to read longer ones? I'm always ready for any kind of feedback!


	32. Black to Black

**January, 1976.**

"Sirius!" hollered Hermione uncharacteristically loud. Like the Marauder's Map had informed her, she found her twin across the hallway, hands stuck in the pockets of his jeans as he walked away.

His back was to her, but she would recognize that long, black hair almost anywhere. She wondered if people often looked for her with the image of her unruly curls in their mind.

Probably.

Almost tripping on her feet, she sped up to catch up to him. When he finally turned around, she began, "Where have you—" but she cut herself off at the sight of him.

He looked pale, sweaty and all the meaning of absolutely exhausted. Not to mention the deep, twisted feeling of panic that she felt from the twin bond. Something was wrong. "Where have you been? Sirius, are you okay?"

She tried to grab his arm, but he pushed her hand away. His dark brows were drawn together, a narrowed gaze fixed on her. "Why? Have you finally decided to care?"

Hermione breathed out a nervous laugh, heart stuck in the back of her throat at the wonder of what was going on. Her hands shot up once again and this time, he let her fingers wrap around his forearm. Her chest warmed as the bond recognized his presence. "What are you talking about?"

His lips curled down, resembling a bit more like their father, who often wore that expression when he was furious or—_well_, she wasn't sure anymore.

"I barely see you anymore—Prongs, I can understand because he's just started dating Evans—but _you_, have you forgotten that you have a brother? Or two but of course, that one doesn't want shit to do with either of us."

Knots began to form in her stomach, twisting painfully as she clenched her hands into fists. She needed to restrain her emotions and realize that Sirius was probably having some nervous breakdown.

_He still hasn't said where he's been_, Granger reminded her, but Hermione didn't care about that. She needed to set some things straight.

"You know I've been busy—" she tried to explain, but he shrugged himself off her hold and took a step back.

"That's the thing, Cub. You're starting to keep things from me, yet again. Did that for five years already, didn't you?"

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath, hopes still held onto not choking up on her words due to the deep despair that was starting to build inside of her.

"Sirius . . . I can't tell you. It's for your own safety," she said, admittedly realizing that it wouldn't do any good to lie, especially at this moment.

Sirius stepped forward and wrapped his large hands around hers, giving her a little tilt of his head. She was baffled by his behaviour.

"Fine, then I don't have to tell you where I have been. But remember, my dear sister, if you decide to do anything for the _greater good_ that could harm you, I will also do anything to keep you safe."

Under the faint light of the candles that hung around the walls on each side, she noticed the hard clench of his jaw, and she began to wonder if he had heard something - perhaps, from Professor Dumbledore.

Hermione opened her mouth, intent on questioning where that had come from but before she could get a word out, a blur of sounds rang from the end of the hallway. Both of them gave the empty space a suspicious look and simultaneously decided to drag each other behind an alcove.

She noticed a glimmer coming out of his pockets and she rolled her eyes. After a light smack on the back of his head, she said, "You have the Invisibility Cloak, you idiot."

He sucked in a breath, chancing a glance towards her before muttering, "Oh, right."

Now hidden under the Invisibility Cloak, they didn't hesitate to look at the two shadowy figures. As they were close enough, she immediately recognized their faces. Strangely enough, she again thought she'd heard Regulus's name come from their mouth.

Before she could throw the thought in the back of her mind, she caught Sirius looking at her with wide eyes.

"What?" she mouthed, but he shushed her with a finger on his lips, leaning closer to the Slytherins. She copied him, staring intently until she could focus on their distinctive voices.

"The Dark Lord has been waiting for too long. We need to get him to come with us."

"Think he'll care if we drag the boy by force?"

The taller boy let out a vile laugh. "That would make Him enjoy marking Black even more."

Sirius began to move on his own and she didn't think twice before following him because - _fuck, fuck, fuck_ \- they were talking about her little brother.

Her heartbeat slammed in her ears and thankfully, Sirius had decided in time to silence their footsteps as she could barely focus on any other sound. Her ears were desperate to catch anything else from the two boys.

By the time they were led to the dungeons, the door was slammed shut and there was no way for them to enter the dormitory along with the two boys.

"Fuck!" Sirius roared and his fist hit the wall, quick and harsh. She could barely make anything out of the additional pain in her chest, every inch of her body already trembling in fear. Her brother turned around to face her, hands on her shoulders as he pushed her against his chest in a tight hug.

Hermione didn't want to cry, she wanted to _do something_, but his black shirt was soaked with her tears anyways, and she could do nothing about it. Only when she heard Sirius hiss in pain, did she spring back to look at him.

They needed to get going.

.

Seated on a sofa provided by the Room of Requirement, the tip of her wand grazed against Sirius's bloodied knuckles. Hermione had Granger's assistance, so this _could_ work like it usually did for Madam Pomfrey. "_Episkey_."

He groaned, retreating his hand back and clutching it against his chest. "You'd be a shitty Healer."

Settling back against a small, maroon cushion, she gave him an annoyed look. "You should be grateful I can perform the spell."

"You or Granger?" It was a poor attempt at teasing her, but she gave him a small smile nonetheless. She knew that he wanted to address the matter at hand, that he was hesitating for the sake of her, when he really shouldn't.

"I think I saw Flint and Avery talking about Regulus before, too. A few days ago, I—" she cleared her throat because yet again, she'd forgotten to mention this to him, "I saw Regulus on the Quidditch Pitch."

There was a beat of silence, where he searched her face for something - like _why_ would she hide this from him. As awful as it sounded, she'd merely forgotten. "Did he talk to you?" he asked quietly.

"He asked me if I was okay," she answered, tone bleeding with a nostalgia that made no sense; it hadn't been that long, even if it felt far different. "And I asked for forgiveness, for whatever I may have done to hurt him."

His head dropped in his hands, fingers gripped at the ends of his hair tightly. "I want to talk to him, too," she heard him admit and she took a hold of his hand, forcing him to look at her.

"You will," she insisted firmly. "We need to stop them, Sirius. We can't let them hurt him."

He nodded, rubbing his jaw absentmindedly. "Do you have a plan in mind?"

She hesitated. "It may be stupid—"

Sirius let out a loud scoff, ruffling her hair as though she was a puppy. "You're Hermione Black - the smartest witch I know, in fact."

Her nose raised a little higher, she relished the fact that he was no longer mad at her and said, "Right. As I was saying, we should . . ."

* * *

Never did Hermione think that this would end up really happening, but she was truly planning on being stuck in a room with Regulus and Sirius until they all figured out their shit.

Granger tsked at her language. _Being Sirius's sister has changed you._

Or maybe not being Sirius's sister had changed Granger in the other dimension. Hermione liked her brother just fine, no matter how confusing their fight—if it could even be called that—had been.

Chancing a glance at Sirius, she noticed the nervous bounce of his leg and when he caught her eyes, he sent her a knowing look. There were only five minutes left of Transfiguration, then they were off to find their little brother.

If Remus and Peter noticed anything, they didn't bother calling them out on it. The latter kept trying to get Sirius's attention, probably making funny drawings of Professor McGonagall - something Hermione disapproved of, for the sake of her favourite Professor.

The drawings though, they were fantastic in their own artistic sense. She'll have to encourage him to draw more later that day.

Hermione also needed to catch Professor Dumbledore before he could get a chance to get away from her again. He wasn't avoiding her per se, but she hadn't learned anything else about Riddle. She also needed to start her training—

_Slow down, little one_, Granger cautioned, sounding extremely sad for filling her shoulders with burden.

_What's done is done_, Hermione thought, as she would rather keep her focus on things that had yet to be done: ultimately defeating Voldemort.

For her father, for everyone's lives that must be at risk. While panicked warnings had been written at the beginning of the year, they had eventually stopped with no other mention of _You-Know-Who_, but she knew.

Hermione knew perfectly that it was the calm before the storm.

"Miss Black, if you're done daydreaming."

Hermione startled, looking up to see Professor McGonagall standing much closer than earlier, and her face burned with embarrassment. She'd never been like that in any class - except that _one_ time in History of Magic.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she hurried to say, her voice pitched up as an unfortunate reaction to the shame she felt.

As the woman walked away, muttering something along the lines of bad influence, she looked away with a frown. She really hadn't meant to do anything bad.

Eventually, her gaze landed to her left, where Lily sat. By her side, her best friend had his hand clasped with the redhead's and he seemed to be trying to write on his parchment with his other one.

He seemed to be failing miserably, but she hoped the thought counted for Lily.

Her eyes flicked back to the redhead, whose green gaze was now turned towards her. The Prefect looked at their Professor once, then drew her attention back at Hermione, managing to judge her in silence.

James turned to his girlfriend to say something—quickly sending Hermione a blinding smile—and he caught Lily's attention, the redhead finally looking away from her.

"Are you okay?" Remus asked as he nudged her arm. He handed her a Sugar Quill, waving away her grateful smile and letting her chew on it for a while before she could reply.

"You are the best friend one could ever have," she exclaimed, not caring to be loud once she sighed in content.

Pursing his lips, he muttered, "And my best friend is very good at avoiding questions. You and Sirius both, really - is it a Black thing?"

"Is being our wise, caring Moony a Lupin thing?"

He rolled his eyes, giving her a slow clap. "Wow, Hermione. You just did it again."

_Oops, I did it again_, Granger sang in a strange tune and Hermione threw her head back, continuing to laugh quietly at every random thing that was happening all at once. She might be going hysterical but at least, Remus joined her in good companionship.

.

Once the bell rang, Hermione allowed Lily to drag the boys away, excluding Sirius. Her twin had moved further down the corner of the room, arms crossed as he watched everyone walk out of the room.

He only moved once she rose with her bag over her shoulder, giving her a small smile as they started to walk away from the seats.

Just as they stood at the doorway, she heard Professor McGonagall as she called, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Hermione swirled around, allowing her lips to quirk up at the memory of the brief encounter they had outside the woman's office. "I won't, Professor."

The teacher then looked at Sirius, raising a perfect, grey brow at him. She continued to stare at him for a couple more beats, until his lips split into a grin and he saluted her. "You need to trust me, Minnie."

Once they received a reluctant nod from the woman, she grabbed Sirius's arm and dragged him to the dungeons. She hoped that being on the front would help her keep up with his tall legs and large strides.

"Snape told me Regulus had Potions class right now," she told him, and he grunted at the mention of the Slytherin.

She could only be grateful for Snape, who suspiciously enough, didn't question her when she stopped him during DADA, to ask him what classes the fourth year Slytherins had at the time.

She guessed that he was strangely trusting of his friends. But was she _his_ friend?

Shaking her head, she continued to move in a hurry, halting on her steps when she found Regulus walking down towards them in small steps.

The corridor was empty by now, the second bell had already rung and for some reason, Reggie looked like he really did not want to go to his next class.

His wish would be fulfilled.

"Pull out the Cloak," she whispered to Sirius and once they were close enough, she gathered her senses and pointed her wand precisely towards Regulus.

She was about to do a N.E.W.T. level Conjuration, so she wasn't sure for how long her thin ropes would last, but she still casted, "_Incarcerous!_"

Moving past her, Sirius hurried to put the Invisibility Cloak over the trio. Their tall figures walked awkwardly under it, especially as Regulus continued to struggle against the restrainment.

"What are you doing?" he demanded in a typical icy, steely Pureblood tone, but they would be foolish to fall for it now.

Sirius has agreed that he would not lose his calm, no matter what their little brother said. So, her twin laid his arm around Reg's shoulders and said, "We're about to have a little family time."

They decided to take the secret staircase to the seventh floor, now moving towards Barnabas's portrait as though it was by habit. Casting a Room-Sealing Spell, she made sure that Regulus won't be able to leave it until she wished him to.

Rolling her eyes at all the additions that Sirius had asked for—Muggle models' posters, Quidditch equipment, Zonko's toys—it struck to her how familiar the image in front of her felt; Sirius and Regulus both sat on the couch.

Though it wasn't usual for Regulus to have ropes around his body, and being the good sister she was, she finally vanished the bindings. Hermione wished she could show Professor McGonagall that she _was_ learning what was being taught this year.

"I'll get you expelled," he threatened menacingly, and she joined them on the red, Gryffindor couch with a doubtful stare.

She shrugged as Sirius snorted and asked, "What are you going to do? Wait till your Mother hears about it?"

"She's yours, too," Regulus spat, looking away from them and fixing a hard stare at the floor.

"I'd rather not have a bitch for a mother."

"Sirius, _honestly_. She's not a bitch . . ." she said, waiting for Regulus's head to shoot up and as she'd expected, he did just that. Finally having his full attention, she continued, "She's a _murderer_."

"What are you talking about?" Regulus glared at her, grey eyes turned into slits and his face red with rage.

"The day _this_ happened," she showed him the scar, the reminder of being a blood traitor—she felt awfully proud of it now, it made strength thrum blindly in her veins—and she continued, "I noticed something strange about Father. I'm sure you did, too. He was showing some strange emotions, ones that he hadn't shown in a while. Didn't you see how he smiled at me during dinner?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She'd never really thought about those moments again and now, her eyes began to water - so, so frustratingly.

"He tried to - no, he _saved_ me, Regulus. Instead of joining Walburga as she watched me get tortured, he distracted everyone so that you could come get me. But before that, do you know what happened?"

"I called out that vile woman for whatever she might've done, and she right out admitted that she had been _poisoning_ him for Merlin knows how long! He didn't die of an illness, Reg. Voldemort probably found out what Father was doing and killed him!"

"You're lying!" Regulus stood up abruptly, walking towards the door without a glance back. She could see him take deep breaths, keeping whatever love was left for Walburga alive, but that loyalty was dangerous for him. Hermione needed to get it removed before he could get hurt, as well.

"Do you think I'd lie to you?" Her voice began to rise, even as he stopped to listen to her - his back still towards her. "Do you really think I'd lie about anything related to our Father's death?!"

The silence that followed could shatter her heart in a million pieces and she would eventually feel each one of the cracks pierce through her.

She hadn't expected to see him turn around, an accusing finger pointed at her and Sirius. "You two didn't care about anyone in our family. You two _left_ me!"

"They were using the Cruciatus Curse on us like usual. What did you expect us to do?" Sirius questioned flatly. He glanced at Hermione before looking back at him. "They were forcing me to marry Bellatrix and forcing our sister to become a _Death Eater!_"

"And you were the one who told me to leave that day," she pointed out quietly, staring into his eyes in hopes that he'll try to listen for once.

"I . . ." His eyes flickered towards the door, his foot raised to where he'd planned to go after all, but just then - he stopped. He did a one-eighty and approached them cautiously, like two lions in their den waiting for their prey.

"Why are you telling me all this now?"

He was, after all, a Slytherin through and through. He had every right to be suspicious, as they had waited so long to talk to him properly.

"We heard Flint and Avery talk about how they're planning on forcing the Dark Mark on you, as per the orders of Voldemort."

He flinched at the name, probably remembering the fear that the Daily Prophet had filled their minds with, through just a name. Let alone the fact that the three had dined with the man. Regulus had even _admired_ him, back then and . . .

"You don't want it, do you?" she asked, walking up to him slowly. She stopped to caress a hand through his hair and he let her, just like when they'd been even younger, when everything had been so much easier.

Sirius stood between them, gauging his reaction carefully. She allowed a few moments to pass as Regulus looked at his older siblings carefully.

"I don't want to be a killer," he admitted quietly and rightfully so. He was just fourteen years old, and they will do anything to forever protect their brother's innocence.

"We'll make sure they don't even lay a finger on you," she told him firmly, nodding at Sirius with a determined look.

"And I'm sorry - for acting like an asshole from the moment you were Sorted," Sirius added, his eyes pleading with Regulus to forgive him.

The younger Black's lips quivered and before tears could spill from the corners of his eyes, they gathered him into a tight embrace, basking in the warm comfort that could only come from a true family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to tell you of how a smile remains on my face for the rest of the day, whenever I see a new comment! It makes me so glad to know that you are enjoying the story. Thank you for all the sweet support.


	33. Frozen Tulips

**January, 1976.**

Hermione had experience with a multitude of things happening in just one day. She clearly remembered how easily she had been able to pull all-nighters before an exam, intent on writing and repeating each and every note she'd ever taken, making sure that she could list off her knowledge in a beat of a second.

So, she could easily say that she was not too exhausted when she was called to Professor Dumbledore's office, right as her and her brothers exited the Room of Requirement.

An adorably, chubby half-kneazle—if what Granger had said was correct—had dropped a note by her feet and happily padded away. She had been very tempted right then and there, to go to Magical Menagerie and impulsively look for Granger's Crookshanks.

_This is no time to think about my Crooks_, Granger interjected, and Hermione realized that the woman was right. A rough looking man, with dark grey, grizzled hair, stood in front of her, his wooden leg just adding to the character.

She could say that she did not flinch when his voice came out as a growl, but that would be a lie.

"Albus, when you mentioned a lass that wouldn't be a waste of my time, you didn't tell me that it would be a lanky one," the man said, a scrutinizing gaze sweeping over her face as though to watch her reaction.

Her cheeks flushed red, and she was sure that she looked like quite a scrawny kid, one that showed an immense lack of physical activity. Yet, she couldn't help but feel bewildered by how openly he had criticized her, right in front of her!

Granger snorted in her head.

Her eyes flew to the Headmaster as he shook his head at the man, an amused look fixed on his face. "Hermione, let me introduce you to an old friend of mine, Alastor Moody," he said as he waved a hand at the space between the two, encouraging them to shake hands.

There was an awkward silence, where she wasn't sure if she should move first, but decided to do so, anyways. This was no time to hesitate over handshakes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Moody," she said with a small smile, hoping the frown on the man's face would finally vanish.

It only deepened.

"We'll see about that," he muttered, shaking her hand briefly before moving away. He turned to Professor Dumbledore, seemingly having a silent debate with him; occasional gestures towards her and all.

They both looked at her once more, this time acknowledging her presence. "I have told Alastor of the Fawkes's tears and the Prophecy, but do not worry, Hermione. He is one of the most loyal Aurors the Ministry has."

"I'm the best one," the gruff voice interjected, and her eyes darted between the two wizards nervously, making sure to take in the dynamic that seemed to be a part of their friendship - if it could even be called that.

Without wasting time, Moody turned to face her and began, "You'll be going through the _much needed_, intense training every weekend. I hunt wizards and witches every day, lass. It won't make me go any easier on you."

There was a question that was still left unanswered, and Hermione could feel it pounding in her mind. "Where will we be training?"

Moody threw the Professor Dumbledore a look, and the man approached her with a stroke of his white, wiry beard. "I hear that you've found the best room in the castle, Hermione."

"Oh." She expelled a nervous laugh, playing with the cuffs of her robes. "The Room of Requirement, Sir?"

Professor Dumbledore merely smiled. "Or the Come and Go Room, as the house elves call it."

* * *

It didn't take long for Hermione to find her brothers. The moment she entered the Great Hall, a pin drop silence followed, but her eyes remained solely fixed towards the Gryffindor table.

She wasted no glance towards the other students as she walked to her usual seat, heart warming in affection at the sight that greeted her.

Sirius was setting up the plate for a mildly annoyed Regulus, who seemed to be stating that he was grown up enough to eat on his own. Her twin was obviously holding back a laugh, continuing with his act.

The corners of her lips twitched, and she made sure to sit in front of the two, so that their banter could continue before her eyes. When she heard a _'clank'_ by her side, only then did she look at everyone else's reactions.

Remus had a fond, if not surprised smile on his face as he searched her face for answers. She winked at him, to which he only rolled his eyes, eating his potatoes and watching the situation in front of him unfold in amusement.

Peter seemed to be doing the same, to which she was grateful, as he didn't say anything tactless that could've made Regulus guard his emotions once again. Speaking of _tact_, she had been expecting a better reaction from James — a silent stare at her wasn't really much to go by. She couldn't tell what was going on in that lovely head of his.

Hermione raised a brow at him, an assuring smile on her face. Only then, did his hard features relax into a grin of his own and he chuckled lowly. "I'd say congratulations are in order?" he asked, popping a carrot into his mouth.

"You sound like someone's having a baby," she said, letting out a laugh that had the ache in her muscles ease. Something had been stuck in her chest, remorseful and bitter in the wait for better times and maybe . . . maybe, they were coming.

Hermione was hopeful.

"Well, the baby of the _family_ is back," Sirius commented, putting Regulus in a brief headlock that was luckily missed by Professor McGonagall.

Regulus faked a frown. She knew as a matter of fact that he was enjoying the attention from Sirius, continuing to munch on his dinner happily with a small, half-hidden smile.

She'd never really seen him look so content with the Slytherins—except for when he was with Severus maybe—which brought back a series of reminders to the reality he was part of. Her brother would be going back to the dungeons every night, where anyone could try to hurt him.

Especially now that he was seen eating at the Gryffindor table.

She shook her head and smiled at her brother. She had talked about this with Professor Dumbledore and Moody already, who had decided that it was best to monitor every Floo Network with more caution and strengthen the wards.

The Headmaster had even asked every portrait to stay alert and inform him if anything was out of the ordinary.

"Where's Lily?" she asked James, whose head shot up at the mention of his girlfriend's name.

He sent her a sheepish smile and said, "She's finishing up her essay, 'cause we've got plans for tonight."

"Oh," she muttered quietly. She had planned to introduce Regulus to the boys properly, but hadn't realized that others could've made plans, too. Hermione chastised herself for thinking so selfishly. "What are you doing?"

Glancing at her briefly, he answered, "Can't tell you. Sorry—"

"Nope, it's fine."

James finally turned to look at her properly, one leg on each side of the bench as he straddled it. He arched a brow at her, and she noticed how his eyebrows had a hint of dark brown in them.

"You don't sound like it's fine," he noted, coming closer to poke her cheek. She swatted his hand away and scowled, folding her arms across her chest.

"No need to be bothered," she said nonchalantly and gave him a flippant shrug, hoping for some reason that the conversation would end right then and there.

He sighed and she almost felt bad for him - for no reason, whatsoever.

"Alright!" James exclaimed with a loud clap of his hands that had her startled. "How about I show you something?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

He stood up silently, showing off his long legs as he stretched and offered her a hand. She took it gracefully and though confused, she rose from her seat and let him drag her away from the table.

When she craned her neck and looked over at the plate that she'd left behind, she saw Sirius grab it enthusiastically, waving her away with a teasing smirk.

Hermione hurried to keep up with James, gripping his hand tighter as they exited the castle and a cold breeze hit her skin harshly, surely making two patches of red appear on her cheeks.

James stopped more often than once to run his warm thumb over them, an apologetic look on his face for making her shiver in the weather. The rain had melted almost all of the snow away, but the Black Lake still seemed frozen due to the low temperatures.

She took pity on both of them and finally put a Warming Charm over them, sighing in delight when a hot puff of air ran around her form.

James let go of her hand and she awkwardly stuffed it inside the pocket of her robes, watching with amusement as he began to pick wet strands of grass. "What are you doing?"

"Watch this," he said, his back now turned towards her. His broad shoulders hid whatever was happening before his eyes, but she could still tell that he was using his wand for something.

Before he finally turned around, he said, "Close your eyes."

Smiling slightly, she followed the order and sighed into the air. "Alright, but—"

Hermione could hear his breathing closer than ever, and she suddenly felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and found a charming boy looking at her with a shit eating grin on his face.

Just before she could ask _what the hell_ he was doing, he brought his hand forward, a gentle grip of his fingers around a bouquet of yellow tulips.

Her lips curled into a delightful smile, her eyes darting between her best friend and the simple, yet thoughtful gift he'd given her. She wasn't sure where it had come from, but she paid the question no mind. At the moment, nothing could make her wide smile slide off her face.

"Thank you . . .?" She tilted her head, taking the flowers in her hand and bringing them closer to her face, so that she could take in the scent of her favourite flowers. "That was a very nice surprise."

His eyes shone brightly, looking at her attentively as he smiled. "It is just the beginning, Herms."

She froze and sent him a glare that lacked any true malice. "I'll cut your bollocks off, if you call me that again, Jamsie."

He merely threw his head back and laughed boisterously.

* * *

"Stop following me like two ducks," complained Regulus, craning his neck to look back at them as they lazily walked around the corridors.

Sirius laid an arm around her shoulders and said, "And here we thought you missed us." He pulled his lower lip into a pout, even though Regulus had already turned back around.

Hermione laughed, pinching her twin's arm and watching with amusement as he scrambled away from her with a pained expression. Even Regulus stopped to chuckle at the older brother.

With slow steps—_purposeful_, as she didn't want to leave Sirius behind—she joined Regulus's side and asked, "So . . . where are we going?"

"You'll see, I guess," he said defeatedly, looking down at her because sadly, even her younger brother was now taller than her.

"So unfair," she muttered and though she wasn't sure if he somehow knew what she'd meant, he laughed at her with no remorse.

Boys were such brats.

.

"Seriously—"

"Oh, Hermione. You _have_ this coming—"

"—_Don't_ you dare say it, Sirius. As I was saying, we walked around Hogwarts just for you to take us to our own dorm?"

Her legs were aching, and she was sure that her lessons with Moody will only result in embarrassment, but this was no time to think about the lessons or to even start practicing. She'd only been trying to be a good sister, for Godric's sake!

"Well, this was no fun, but you _do_ need your sleep," Sirius commented, pointedly ignoring their younger brother's confused look. "Let me go grab James's Cloak, and then I can hand Reggie over to the snakes."

"No, no. There's still something I need to show you," Regulus interjected, looking entirely too smug for a Slytherin who was entering the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Alright," she conceded slowly, her gaze running around the large room, with barely any students just as she'd expected. As the weekend had yet to come, most of them had retreated to their dorms rather early.

They walked up the small staircase, leading up to their dorm as usual but this time, Regulus was with them, looking at his surroundings with an impassive expression.

"So, I was thinking of writing to Uncle Alphard," she began, glancing at her brothers. She instantly stopped when Sirius's eyes turned wide and she proceeded to follow his trail of sight towards the doorway.

All the boys, Marlene _and_ Lily were sitting on the floor like little children, a cake in the middle of the circle they'd formed.

"_Happy birthday!_"

Her mouth hung open, taking in all the treats placed on each plate meticulously, and the decorations that hung around the bed posts.

"Sirius!" she gasped, amazed at the sight that greeted her, "Did you forget it, too?"

Her brother looked put out and he huffed in irritation. "I can't believe I forgot my own birthday."

Well, they _had_ been so busy with other matters. It made sense that only the others had remembered it.

Regulus searched her face intently, and she gave him a gentle smile. "Look at you, Reggie — plotting with the Marauders already."

He rolled his eyes and settled down on the floor, his grey eyes fixed on the chocolate cake. She was surprised that it was still intact, what with the way Moony was eyeing the dessert as though it was a bag full of Galleons.

"I thought I told you not to call me that," Regulus muttered, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward glance around the room.

Sirius snorted, opening his arms wide open and tilting his head like a puppy. "Alright! Is no one going to give me a birthday hug?"

Everyone remained seated, giving him a deadpan look that had her sides hurting from holding back a laugh. Her feet moved on their own, and she wrapped her arms around her brother's torso. "Happy birthday, Padfoot."

"Happy birthday, little sister," he said good naturedly, rubbing her back even as she made an annoyed noise. "Maybe one day, you'll start treating your older brother with respect."

"You may be two minutes older, but I am still the wisest," she mumbled, giving him a challenging look that would have had others shaking in fear.

"Sure, you are," Sirius said, sarcastically or not - she couldn't really tell.

"Hurry up, you two!" Remus exclaimed with a loud groan, his self-control seemingly edging over a tall cliff.

She approached him with a sweet smile and sat down, patting his cheek with a light tap of her fingers. "Yes, come on. We shan't let Moony suffer any longer."

Just as she prepared to blow the candles with her twin, her eyes met soft hazel ones and her heart fluttered in a skip.

What a surprise, indeed.

Her eyes slid over to the redhead that sat by his side, and Hermione sent her a small smile. It was time to let go of some grudges and put more effort in the people that were still by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I thought it would be nice to introduce Moody exactly on Hermione's birthday. Sounds like a brand new beginning for her, doesn't it?


	34. When I Need You

**January, 1976.**

Needless to say, Hermione was surprised when she received something rather touching from the boys. Not that their previous gifts had been bad, Merlin _no_. They were perfect . . . just very different from this one.

The boys had all pitched in for a bracelet — one with charms that looked like their Animagus forms and Moony. It was _so_ thoughtful, and her heart warmed at the gesture.

She smiled at the size difference of the two dogs. Hermione was getting used to being the pup. Not to mention how the wolf protectively huddled around his friends, especially the smaller ones, like her and Wormtail.

"The little pup reminds me of you, Herms," Marlene cooed, grinning at Hermione when she threw her friend a quick glare.

"What are those animals?" Lily asked curiously, her eyebrows scrunched together as she stared down at the gift.

Sirius snorted at the uncomfortable look that crossed on James's face, the boy most likely unsure on how to lie to his girlfriend. "It's just what we consider our animal forms to be."

Regulus let out a low chuckle, making sure to ask, "Is Potter the rat?"

"Why would I be the rat?" asked James indignantly, and he then threw an apologetic look at Peter.

"Haven't seen your hair in the mirror, have you? It's a rat's nest," Regulus said tauntingly.

"No, it's _magnificent_. Anyways—of course, now we have _three_ sarcastic Blacks—" he muttered in between, "the rat is actually our Peter." His tone was loud and proud, and his gaze was set admirably at his best friend.

Peter preened under all the stares, as though he'd been greatly complimented by each one of them for winning some sort of trophy.

Once all the animals were assigned to each Marauder, Lily scooted closer to her boyfriend and glanced at him quizzically. "James . . . why did they choose a deer for you?"

"I think he has no eye-deer," Hermione piped in, taking the opportunity with a wide grin. She was sure that she could even see Granger's disappointed frown at such a bad pun.

"_No!_" James gasped dramatically. He gave her the middle finger and even though Lily looked terrified at whatever the hell was going on, Hermione threw one finger right back.

Regulus scooted away from her, scowling at her like a petulant child. "Get away from me—I'm going back to the dungeons."

Sirius looked dazed for a moment and Marlene shook his shoulders lightly with a small smirk. "I'm so proud of you. _Idea_ . . . wow, Hermione."

Remus gave her a slow clap, the side of his lips almost lifting in a smirk, and Hermione felt her heart ease at everyone's smiles.

It was getting better.

* * *

Hermione laid her face on her upturned palm, her eyes now shut close. It struck to her how _whole_ she felt — like the cage that had been stuck in her chest was finally freed. A part of her still couldn't grasp onto the reality of what had happened before her eyes a few minutes ago.

All of her family was now reunited; new and old.

And just as she was about to turn her head and murmur to Sirius of just _how_ content she felt, her whole body chilled with goosebumps.

Had they not been closed already, she would've shut her eyes instantly at the rough, heavy pain that struck on the side of her head, as though she'd been hit by a Hippogriff.

She knew this feeling. She'd felt it before, Merlin knew how hard it had been to make it go unnoticed at Grimmauld.

Breathing haggardly, she leaned against the wall, allowing her head to fall back and hit the hard surface. It only made the throbbing pain grow, even as colours swam in her vision and she sucked in a sharp, shuddering breath.

_There was a couple. It seemed to be a wife and a husband around their fifties, their feet settled on the coffee table as they read a book together. Before Hermione could get a chance to look for clues on who they were, her neck snapped back after hearing a loud sound come from nearby._

_She looked back at the couple once, before moving towards the sound in scurried steps. Her heartbeat slammed in her chest and her eardrums loudly, and she wished desperately to make it stop completely—no, no - calm it down just enough._

_Hermione froze on the spot, unable to move no matter how much she wished to. Shock ran wildly in her veins as she watched more than a couple of figures—Death Eaters, they were Death Eaters!—blast the front door open and move to the living room immediately, where the couple was still sitting, unaware of the intrusion._

_Her mouth opened and she tried to scream as loud as she could to get their attention—_

"Hermione . . ."

She felt the bed shift, Sirius now sitting closer to her to stroke her hair lightly up and down. The bridge of her nose burned with a deep sense of despair, foolishly urging her to slam her eyes shut once again.

_You need to inform Professor Dumbledore_, the woman in her head softly reminded her, joining her twin brother in keeping her grounded.

She gasped for air as quietly as she could, clutching onto Sirius's arm like it was her lifeline. _Do something, do something, do something!_

"Was it a vision?" he asked, looking over at the other boys, who were huddled around their leftover homework.

She nodded slowly and her blurry eyes tried to focus on the light blue colour of her blanket. Her fingertips desperately moved against its surface to feel the soft, warm touch. She snuggled closer to Sirius, taking in the brotherly scent of his magic that came with his presence.

A lump had begun to form in her throat, but she swallowed it before it could swallow her voice whole.

"I need to go see Professor Dumbledore," she informed him, her feet already moving towards her slippers and her hands gripping her robes tighter around her frame.

"I'll come," he offered, and she nodded silently, shaking in trepidation as she waited for him to get ready as quickly as possible.

She was already out of the doorway when she heard James holler, "Oi! Where are you going?"

Hermione was just about to turn around to quickly spit out a lie and call it a day, but Sirius bested her to it. "Abraxas wants to talk to Hermione!" he blurted out, the eldest Malfoy being the first thing that came to his mind, for some reason.

She couldn't focus on what James had replied with, nor the long walk they had to the Headmaster's office. To think that she'd been in a good mood, when she'd left it a few hours ago . . .

.

"Miss and Mr. Black," Professor Dumbledore exclaimed, his tone holding a hint of surprise. Surely, he knew by now that Hermione wouldn't be the only one losing sleep over these things. She needed help and she wasn't ashamed to admit it for once. This was an important matter, one that weighed more than her Black ego.

She moved to her usual seat and watched as her brother sat on the one beside her. Taking in a deep breath, she looked at the Headmaster with an unwavering gaze.

"I saw something in a vision. There was this couple, Muggle, I think—there was a lot of unusual furniture—and then, Death Eaters barged in! Sir, this hasn't happened yet, right? We can stop this—"

"Hermione," he started and fixed his half-moon glasses before proceeding, "Do you have an appropriate description of the two Muggles or their location? Anything that could help us find them?"

She paused, clasping her hands in a tight, deathly grip. She looked down as she filed through her memory, unsure of the attention she'd given to details.

Everything felt blurry.

"What if I were to give you a memory of it?" she asked, hating the way her voice broke with uncertainty.

He shook his head solemnly. "A Sight does not behold access to others."

She shut her eyes, focused on making the same scene appear before her eyes, no matter how illogical it sounded. The only thing she could see were the bodies that lay dead on the bloodied floor.

"Is there nothing we can do?" Sirius asked, giving her time to adjust her breathing.

He sighed, but before he could answer, she began again, "Let's think about it, Professor! Who would Voldemort attack first after all these months of silence? It would be those he despises the most, Muggleborns."

"So, this could be a Muggleborn's family, right?" Sirius asked, leaning against the edge of the table and watching Professor Dumbledore's reaction carefully.

The older wizard gave the two of them a proud look, his hand grazing through his white, frizzy beard. After a beat of silence, he said, "It seems that the conclusion would be the most logical. I shall inform some friends of mine, Hermione, and we will begin to look into our students' families right away. Do you have an idea of which student their looks might have resembled?"

Hermione bit her lip, pressure hard as she thought about the few features she'd managed to remember. Dark black hair for the husband, strikingly blue eyes for the wife . . . there had been a family picture somewhere there; she was sure of it.

The teenager that was in the picture, she looked quite familiar — a name that her mind couldn't quite yet grasp on. She hadn't seen that face in a long time, that much she was certain of. But then, where would she have seen it?

_Second year!_

That meant that the student had graduated, hadn't she? And among the graduates that year, there was . . .

"Dorcas Meadowes!" she gasped out, her hands flying to her mouth in shock.

Professor Dumbledore's brows knitted together into a tight line, looking quite worried. "Auror Meadowes?"

"She's an Auror, now? _Of course_ \- she was terrifying even here," Sirius muttered, scratching along the side of his jaw as he looked in between Hermione and the Headmaster.

She gave him a distracted glance before coming back to her senses, just in time to hear Professor Dumbledore say, "As I know Auror Meadowes very well, I'll be informing her immediately. We must also look into protecting other families." He let out a heavy sigh. "For now, please do go back to your dorm."

With a shuddering breath, she gripped the arm of the chair before she let go of it, standing up and moving towards the small staircase.

Sirius joined her quickly and she took one step closer to the door, just in time to hear Professor Dumbledore say, "Thank you for doing your best, Hermione."

Only Sirius was able to see her nod with a misty gaze.

* * *

Hermione slept as much as she could, even lamenting loudly when annoying sunlight streaks hit her face. Though she'd thought about throwing her blanket over her head, someone thought it'd be a good idea to irritate her early in the morning and drag the warmth away from her body.

Her blanket no longer within the reach of her arms, she shot an irritable look at James. He should've known better than to irritate her, especially after he mentioned how Hermione was the only one left to still finish the Muggle Studies project.

She had a strong urge to sit up and choke her best friend — lightly, of course — but Remus came to his rescue just in time, bringing her blanket closer to her once more and snuggling right next to her.

She didn't know how he'd managed to figure out how she was in a desperate need of cuddles, but she wasn't going to complain, either.

Being a werewolf, his body was naturally very warm, even in his human form. So, when he wrapped his arm over her stomach, she welcomed the warmth with a content sigh.

She looked up at James and narrowed her eyes, daring him to do anything more. Surprisingly, the boy looked away, scratching the back of his neck, which was getting increasingly red at each step he took.

"_Ugh_," Sirius's voice rang close to her bed, "Prongs, come give me platonic cuddles, too!"

She was a hundred percent sure that he had his bottom lip pulled out in a pout to create a faux-innocent look. She knew that because they'd spent their entire childhood perfecting it in front of mirrors.

"Oh, Sirius Black! Let me show you what a _good_ cuddle is," James said in a high-pitched voice, resembling the growing number of girls that continued to get in line for a kiss with Sirius.

She blanched at the thought and thought it'd be a good time to address the matter. "Sirius," she called out, her voice reverberating against Remus's chest.

"Yeah?" He sounded like he was struggling to keep James in his arms, not giving his best mate a chance to escape already.

"You need to start treating girls better," she pointed out in a stern voice.

"Where's that coming from? And don't worry, Cub. Before I do anything, I make sure to tell them it's only a one-time thing . . . huh, they _do_ seem more relieved after that."

"They likely want to get a kiss from you before they get a long-term boyfriend," Remus murmured through the explanation.

She gnawed on her lip, not quite sure of how that worked. "They're using you!" she concluded with wide eyes.

"No, Hermione. If anything, we're both using each other for equal benefits."

"I suppose," she said, blowing away a curl that had settled close to her nose. "When's Lily going to warm up to me?"

Remus gave her a light smack on the back of her head. "What's with all these random questions, Cub?"

Anything to keep her mind off _other_ things, she thought morosely.

"Lily is trying to get used to our dynamics, so don't act too pissy faced with her," James warned her, though his voice lacked any malice.

"I would never!" she gasped out, stifling a laugh when Remus gave her an incredulous look.

"Alright - get off me, mate," Sirius hollered loudly and a loud thud followed. Bed sheets were rustled, and soft footsteps padded over to her bed, where her twin narrowed his eyes at her.

"You're either drunk off the lack of sleep, or you're wasting time so that you won't have to admit that you still have to do the project that's due tomorrow."

"Wow, you really _are_ my twin," she commented lightly, only to have Sirius smile at her abashedly before taking his wand out from Merlin knows where. Giving her no time to react, he pointed it at her and murmured a spell that she knew all too well.

"Sirius Black," she said through clenched teeth, "tell me you didn't do it."

He shrugged, told her to get up to check whichever colour he'd chosen for her hair, and had the nerve to shift into Padfoot!

He even went back to the comfort of his own bed, so why did _she_ have to get up?

This had to be a punishment for all the times she's woken the boys up, her loud orders of getting their work done.

Being on the other side surely sucked.

* * *

With her hair stuck on the colour electric blue for the rest of the day, Hermione had decided to stay in the dorms. Normally, she wouldn't have cared about walking around as the product of a prank, but it was cold out anyways, so she had no interest in watching the Quidditch practice.

Instead, she'd had a long conversation with Granger on her Muggle Studies project. She'd even found out that the woman had managed to actually take _all_ the electives for her third year!

Hermione had wished to do that too but had decided it wouldn't do her any good to overwork herself, and instead she focused on spending more time with the boys. She especially couldn't even understand _why_ Granger had taken Muggle Studies, when she definitely already knew everything there was to know about Muggles already.

_Stop thinking about me_, Granger mumbled.

Well, it was kind of hard when the woman was _literally_ in her head all the time.

A sigh was heard and then, _I want you to try this Cassette Spell and find a song you like._

She followed the orders diligently, excited to learn more about the music in the Muggle world. She'd heard cassettes playing at the small stores her and Sirius had visited, each time they'd sneaked out of Grimmauld, but this felt different - more personal; getting to choose her own song.

So, they filed through the latest hits: _Love Will Keep Us Together, Down Down, Ms. Grace, and I'm Not in Love._

It was healing to say the least—nothing close to a jarring project at the last minute. They'd been told to research the arts in the Muggle world and Hermione had the best source to trust with the info.

She closed her eyes when the songs got quieter and quieter, taking in the relaxing beat of her heart along with the tune.

And when the songs managed to get her up from the bed, there was nothing that could stop her from dancing along the feels that had her on the verge of crying. Not even James barging in, looking like a hot mess minus the hot part.

At least, _he_ wasn't the one close to having a breakdown, while listening to _When I Need You._

_Leo Sayer knew what he was doing with those lyrics_, Granger muttered dreamily like an old lady.

"What happened to your hair?" she asked, giving it a long look. It was sticking out on all sides, random wet strands falling on his forehead.

"What happened to _your_ hair?" he threw back, chuckling at the colourful mess that was surely living on top of her head. All that dancing had probably messed it up even more, but she didn't care.

_When I need you, just close my eyes and I'm with you._

She grinned, approaching him with slow steps. "Five years of friendship and I have yet to see you dancing," she commented with a narrowed gaze.

"Oh, yeah? Bring it on," he challenged as he put his weight on one leg to another, looking more like he was ready to fight than dance.

She rolled her eyes, shutting them close as she swirled around.

_I never knew there was so much love._

When she opened her eyes, he held her hands and stretched his arms in and out, pulling her closer and then far. "You look like you've had a hard day."

She gave him a long look. "Don't I look like it everyday?"

"Yeah - you do, actually. Hermione, is there anything I can help you with?" he asked slowly, his grip on her hands getting unconsciously tighter.

_Miles and miles of empty space in between us._

Words lodged in her mouth and her heart urged her - Merlin, pushed her to tell someone, tell James everything and let it all out. Talk about how helpless she'd felt just a night ago, when she'd been stupid enough not to pay attention to the details of a vision.

"No, but thanks for the offer. Maybe some other time, Prongsie?"

He rolled his eyes, but gave her a small smile, anyways. "Don't forget about it," he warned, being extra dramatic in holding her finger and twirling her around.

_Honey, that's a heavy load we bear._

"I promise on the frog we rescued from the Black Lake," she told him with exaggerated solemnity, and he gave her an incredulous look.

"Crazy how you remember _that_ from our second year."

She scoffed loudly. "Like you don't."

"I do! I told Lily about it just yesterday—you have no idea how close we are to the tale of the cat rescue from our fourth year."

She bit her lip to stifle a wide smile. "Wait . . . _You're_ the one I saved it with?!"

"Hermione!"

_But you know I won't be travelling a lifetime._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it. Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> Song credits: When I Need You by Leo Sayer!


	35. Moody Fun

**January, 1976.**

Things got going soon after that vision. It barely took a day, before she found out that the Meadowes had been thankfully saved.

Not only that, she was eating breakfast—just a light one, as she had her first training with Moody right after—when a familiar grey, eagle owl let a high pitched scream, flying right towards her without a halt.

It almost knocked down Sirius's glass of orange juice, before it dropped the letter on the center of the table. She opened her mouth to stop it and give the beautiful owl a treat, but being one of the Malfoys, it obviously flew away without a look back.

Sirius snorted, but she gave him a glare that left him sporting a look of pure innocence. Her eyes back on the Slytherin coloured family crest, she felt a surge of excitement at the thought of what might've made Abraxas write to her.

After their talk through the Floo, she hadn't heard from him again and she'd been half-tempted to reach out to him first — something that she had never done in the duration of this . . . well, _friendship_, she supposed begrudgingly, holding back a grimace.

Merlin, at least it wasn't Lucius she was talking about.

Granger made a noise of disgust. It seemed that she won't be changing her mind on the Malfoys any time soon.

In the meanwhile, Hermione knew she should hurry up and read the letter, because Sirius had been eyeing it like a piece of meat in the past three minutes.

She reached for it, her eyes flicking towards the boys and making sure no one was too interested in the contents — not as much as Sirius anyways — and she settled back in her seat.

Hermione hoped she could read the letter, summarize it to her brother and leave out the details she hadn't yet talked about with him.

Once she'd made sure that he was preoccupied with his plate of eggs, she opened the seal and slid the letter between her fingers. She could almost smell that same scent she'd caught from the Manor; lavender and something elegant.

_Hermione,_

_Forgive me if I'm late to reach out to you. I admit I wasn't planning on doing it soon, but recently I've been told that there's a chance of a cure to be made, to whatever my unfortunate illness may be. So, allow me to be self-assertive and believe that this news might alleviate some of your worries - perhaps, even motivate you to write to me first._

_Who am I fooling? Next time, I'll make sure not to wait for you too long._

_Moving onto much serious matters, are you doing well, little Black? Has anything been done about your training? If not, I'm sure you know Lucius will be willing to help you out himself. Nonetheless, it seems that somehow, Dumbledore . . . no, _ _ **you** _ _ were able to stop the first comeback of the Dark Lord. I am pleased to know that you can help that old fool, as he surely wouldn't have figured anything out by himself. Speaking of the Dark Lord, Lucius told me that he recently visited a certain place by himself, a Muggle one I believe - but with no attacks. I will let you know if there's more information on it, but in the meanwhile, do try hard to get some meat on those limbs, you weakling._

_Even if that Headmaster of yours makes a group, he'll surely add good for nothing members. I am sure that you are what the Wizarding world needs._

_Take care,_

_Lord Malfoy._

She already had her quill and fresh piece parchment out by the time she finished the letter. It seemed that the letter had been written immediately after the attack scare, so he deserved an answer just as quickly.

_(You're still) Lord Malfoy (?)_

_I can't begin to tell you how pleased I am to hear from you. I was beginning to consider making a surprise visit to the Manor, though Narcissa dear might feel a bit threatened, if she were to hear of that. Anyways, I _ _ **am** _ _ serious when I say that I'm glad to hear that you've finally done something about that illness of yours. I won't say I was scared for you or anything like that . . . I just pitied your son._

_Oh, who am I kidding? Please do take care, Abraxas. You and your old coot beliefs have grown on me, so I am not letting you go anytime soon._

_And me? I am doing just fine. My Legilimency barriers remain strong and don't worry - training is about to start today. Professor Dumbledore took his time, but it was to find the right person for me! Unlike you, who would offer your son . . . as if he was better than me!_

_I apologize for sounding so - err, insensitive over my own safety? and I promise you, I'll do my best to become the best witch Voldemort will ever stand before in his lifetime._

_Lastly, I haven't been told of any group, but I'll make sure to find out about it soon. Thank you for all the help, and make sure that you find the cure, or I'll make one myself!_

_Take care,_

_Hermione Black._

By the time she'd finished up her letter, the boys had already left for Hogsmeade, convinced that she was staying back to catch up on some more homework — as if Hermione could have any more left. The very little project that had been left was already handed in, all thanks to the assistance from Granger.

Now though, it was time to do something she wasn't very good at; physical activities _were_ a pain. And as she walked away from the table and crossed the room towards the entrance, she could feel her limbs shake in dread, embarrassment, or a mix of both.

Still, Hermione couldn't deny that she felt _hopeful_. Not the kind that made her exceptionally optimistic, like everything in the world would now go right, but the kind where she could finally vision little, but concrete things falling into place like she'd actually wished for.

She had never thought that this surge of hope would come at this very moment, but even the small experience of it lit her body with a kind of determination that had her almost _skipping_ to the Room of Requirement.

Whether it was due to the reunion with Regulus, or the usual but still heartwarming letter from Abraxas, she did not know, and she found that this was one of those questions she wouldn't mind not having the answer to.

She hadn't realized how far her feet had taken her, but she wasted no time in checking the time and asking to enter whichever room her trainer had created for them. When two large doors formed, she grasped the knob and turned it, entering the room wide-eyed.

Unexpected as it may be, she had to bite her lips from letting out a loud gasp at the sight that greeted her eyes: large floors that seemed to be never ending, white walls that appeared to be far-away and yet close enough that she could touch them.

Simple and practical, just as she guessed Moody liked it. Finding the wizard no more than a few feet away from her, her mouth set into a firm line and she wasted no time in saying, "Thank you for everything."

The tough man grunted, frown set deep and yet, not as sharp or malicious as Walburga's would've been. "Haven't done anything yet. You'll need to do _much_ more work before you thank me for it."

Slightly frustrated at the response, but motivated nonetheless, she nodded firmly and moved closer to the board that had appeared all of the sudden.

In large capitals, there was written the word, _'Exercise'_. Below, several stretches, workout routines alternating each day were written, along with magical drawings that showed the effect and change it will bring to her legs, arms and torso.

"Despite what you may believe, knowing each spell isn't everything. A good wizard or witch needs to know how to move swiftly around their opponent, be able to handle more than one without a wand."

She turned around to face him, arching a brow. "Without a wand?"

He nodded, waving his hand at the board. More drawings were then shown: the methods of fighting that Muggles used.

"Ever decked someone, lass?" he asked, almost mocking her, which only made her nod quicker than she usually would, too proud for her own good.

Amos had deserved it, she reminded herself.

"And did you hurt your knuckles?"

She smiled weakly. "I did, no matter how strong the punch may have felt at the time."

He seemingly bit back a sarcastic reply, instead went back to his lecture. "Often in battles, you are going to lose your wand. It is necessary that you can use your strength in any way possible. Certain wizards are dim headed enough to think of Muggle ways as lowly, but it's an advantage - a skill that you need."

She hadn't realized how enthusiastically she'd nodded along each word he'd said, so focused into grasping the importance of Muggle defence.

She was close to shaking in trepidation, when he let out a low chuckle and said, "Dumbledore told me of how eager of a student you were, so if you are wondering what you're starting with today . . . don't waste any time in starting twenty laps around the room."

Needless to say, she couldn't protest much as the room got exceptionally larger, like a nightmare that left her running in a pool of sweat.

.

Her skin scathing hot, Hermione was sure that she looked like quite a vision. Only thing that Moody had mentioned after the last, painfully sluggish lap was that she needed to stop being slower than a Flobberworm. She'd felt insulted, but more than that - she'd felt like she'd been challenged, and she began wanting to get fit like it was the last thing she'll ever do.

After a few stretches to make sure she won't be extra sore the following morning—she didn't quite believe such a statement—Moody told her to practice each necessary Charm and Curse she'd learned over the course of her past DADA classes, dating back to her very first year at Hogwarts. So, with a brain more active than ever, she showed him perfect wand motions.

Once Moody's shield was put in place, she began with _Flipendo_, a spell that was intent on knocking back the target. _Expelliarmus_, _Petrificus Totalus_, _Riddikulus_, and _Stupefy_ didn't work either, but she threw the spells at him regardless, to show him that she did know them. _Impedimenta_ and _Reducto_ were the last ones she showed, the latter being a spell that she'd learned only recently.

He seemed to be holding back an approving comment, instead allowing only a small word to pass through his lips, "Decent."

If he had anything else to say, he couldn't voice it as a lynx Patronus appeared out of nowhere, circling around Moody. She almost stumbled back when a voice came out of it, urging the Auror to come back to the Department and do his job.

"Kids these days have no respect," the old man grumbled, waving his wand around to gather his belongings.

"I have never seen a Patronus talk," she told him in awe, eyes still wide even as the feline disappeared through the walls.

He shot her a glance. "Yes, well. Albus taught us a fast way to communicate—"

"Us? Is it a new group? Have you formed a group to fight Voldemort?"

The wizard glared at her as soon as she shut her mouth. "Lass! Walls have ears, don't you know? And whoever your source may be, don't trust foolish rumours like that . . ."

She stared at him defiantly and he cleared his throat, looking away. "Now leave before I do."

Hermione wanted to argue, she really did but that would have been inappropriate, that too on the first day. She would have to get more information out of him in the future, instead.

"Okay. Thank you for today. I'll make sure to do these exercises like you told me to," she promised, and when she sensed that she'd already lost his attention, she whirled around and moved towards her entrance.

Despite the sweat that trickled down her limping body, she thought that training was not hard. It was going to be worth it.

* * *

"Did you plan a trip to hell without me, or what?" Sirius had his head tilted to the side, looking quite put out as he considered her.

Hermione stifled a smile and when she tried to stretch her arms, she couldn't hold back a wince at the soreness that had already overcome her body.

"Studying for O.W.L.s. is going to be hard," she commented evasively and let her body lean against the cold surface of the wall behind her.

He snorted loudly. "I'll never know what it's like."

"Not if I force you by being extremely gross. Do you want me to take advantage of being so sweaty right now?" she commented lightly, though her eyes were narrowed at the mere idea of Sirius not studying for such important exams!

_That's how he is_, Granger said with a sigh, but Hermione wanted to say that _no_, not if _she_ had any say in it.

"And you say _I'm_ the dog!" he exclaimed, wide-eyed, and she laughed, purposefully walking close to him with slow steps.

She plopped down on his mattress and said, "We're both dogs, _stupid!_"

He began to push her away from the soft bed, forcing her to sit on the freezing floor instead. "Get off my bed, _stupid_, and tell me what Malfoy said to cheer you up so much."

She plastered a big smile on her face, craning her neck to show it to him. "He said that they're looking for a cure for him. I—he also believes that I saved the Meadowes." She snorted with a shake of her head. "All I did was sit back and watch what could have happened."

He stared at her with a glaring gaze, offended by the mere fact that she'd talked badly about herself. "Had you not been there, they wouldn't have known who to save, Cub. Stop putting yourself down. It's not like the Hermione I know."

He immediately shifted into Padfoot and hopped down the bed, joining her on the floor with his tail wrapped around his legs as he sat down close to her. She patted his long, black fur and smiled. "You're right. It's time to get things going."

She then wasted no time in shifting into Cub as well, joining her brother in some well-deserved cuddles.

That's how the rest of the boys found them, two dogs giving each other comfort. Hermione, who was worried for what Voldemort's plans were, and Sirius, who was worried for what his sister was getting into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. My mental health has not been doing great, so I apologize if this affects future updates, too. Other than that, thank you so much for all the kudos and comments! I can't express how grateful I am for the support you've given to this story. Thank you so much.


	36. Everlasting Bond

**February, 1976.**

Hermione hadn't experienced a crisis of this magnitude since she'd been nine years old and had been caught sneaking out to a Muggle park with Sirius. Undoubtedly, she'd received a harsh punishment from Walburga, but the worst feeling had been the unhelpfulness that hit her at the inability to rescue her brother.

The same kind of unease was back when she saw Regulus at the Slytherin table, well aware that she couldn't snatch that letter out of his hands. She had an inkling that their mother had found out about him hanging out with his Gryffindor siblings a few weeks prior and was keen on forbidding him from doing that ever again.

Of course, Professor Dumbledore had recommended keeping their meetings secret from now on, as not to put further accusations of Regulus turning into a blood traitor.

"Make it seem like a mistake that the young Black regretted," he had said a couple of weeks earlier.

Regulus needed to be seen neutral to be safe from Voldemort's eyes and begrudgingly, she knew that they had to keep their distance for it.

Once she received a quick, reassuring eye contact from her little brother, she dragged her eyes away and moved them to Snape.

Noticing that the Slytherin was done with his meal, Hermione got up as well and silently headed towards the library, looking back a few times to check that he was following her.

Once she was inside, she took the usual right turn as soon as she reached the last shelf in the room and made her way to sit at her usual spot.

A couple of moments later, she could hear the drag of his chair as Snape sat down with a sour look on his face.

"You look like you've been fed a bunch of bad Bettie Bott's Beans. Want some chocolate?" she offered, the side of her lips quirking up at the reaction she got.

His eyes widened at the sight of the sweet, but he quickly rid his face of any sign of how desperately he wanted a piece.

"You'll change your mind," she sang, taking a bite of the bar that she'd held with one hand while she set her bag down on the floor with the other. "Would it hurt to tell me what the letter said?"

He eyed her appraisingly, arching a stiff brow at her. "Yes," he muttered. "If you're so interested, you could just ask your brother." He paused and gauged for a reaction and when he got none, he leaned back in his chair.

"Fine," Hermione said, sporting the most neutral look she could. "I don't really care of what goes on in that family. I'd rather just get started with the lesson if it's fine with you."

_The Wizarding world has some great actors_, Granger muttered.

Snape grunted, immediately attempting to invade her mind the moment he met her eyes. Her walls started to build up slow by slow, less fast than they had before winter break. The Cruciatus Curse had really affected her mind badly, no matter what the Healer had said at Potter Manor.

By the time there was only an inch of space left for him to enter her mind, she could tell he was looking for a specific setting in her mind — Grimmauld Place. She couldn't blame him—she'd instigated his curiosity, _but_ it didn't mean that she would let him see some of the most vulnerable moments in her life.

_That place is truly awful. The basement especially was so . . ._ started Granger, and Hermione froze - immediately questioning in her mind as to how the woman knew about the place. She'd been forbidden to enter the basement, so there was no way Granger would've seen it in her mind.

_Oh. I - well, I had to visit it in my time_, Granger replied simply. _Come on, we can't risk talking right now. Severus could still enter your mind again._

But the boy in question had already exited her mind, and she let out a heavy, ragged breath, closing her eyes for a minute to stop her mind from playing her worst nightmares continuously.

Except they were _reality_ \- the fruit of Walburga's love for her children. Or well, the lack of it.

"I didn't like that," she told him, knowing well that she had no place to complain. But still - a loud rush of anger filled her chest, surely it was just her projecting her ire at him rather than at her mother.

Her jaw was locked tight, but the moment Snape opened his mouth, it fell slack. "I'm sorry," he said and kept his dark eyes on her. Had she not trusted him, she would've thought he was trying to enter her mind once more. "I needed to make sure that you can keep your worst memories out."

She rubbed her sweaty palms against the rough surface of her jeans. "How did you know that's where they are?" she asked, genuinely surprised at his intuition.

He looked away and for the first time ever, she saw him scratch the back of his neck - as if that were his nervous tick. She had never seen Severus Snape _nervous_, of all things.

"I recognize some things when I see them."

Her mouth formed an _'o'_ and she hesitated. "Do you - is it because you can . . . relate to them?"

His head snapped back towards her, and Hermione could feel his own walls closing in. "No," he bit out. "Why? Do you want to have a counseling session now?"

Her hands rose to appease him, and she shook her head adamantly. "Of course not. I'd never force you to listen to me, or to have you talk to me about it. I just believe that mental health is very important when it comes to matters like - like abuse."

Snape stood up instantly, grabbing his bag in a swift and harsh motion. "This lesson is over. Tell Dumbledore you passed this test, as well."

With that, he walked away from the table with his robes levitating from the floor so gracefully that she thought he had put a spell on them.

She expelled a disappointed sigh. With Snape, it was always one step forward and two steps backwards. With this pace, she wasn't sure of when they would reach a genuine friendship.

Hermione ran a hand through her long curls and contemplated reading over her History of Magic essay again — Grindelwald had been a rather interesting figure — but just then, she was interrupted by a tap on her shoulders. She craned her neck to find a young, black haired girl, whose eyes were fixed to the floor.

"Hi?" Unsure on what else to say, she waited and waited for the first year Ravenclaw's mouth to open, but the girl silently handed her a small note and scurried away right that instant.

Hermione bit her lips and they pulled into a pout. She didn't look so intimidating, did she? Shaking her head, she opened the note to read the contents.

_Flibble Quivers after dinner._

She wasted no time in burning the piece of paper and packing her stuff.

* * *

Mindful that the boys had Astronomy class right after dinner, she waited for dessert to disappear to see them finally leave and exited the Great Hall right after. Greeted by only a few portraits on the way, she noticed the appraising looks some wore at the little girl who was constantly bothering the Headmaster.

Hermione found that she didn't care. She would've been embarrassed previously, but now she just proceeded with entering his office quicker than ever, the Gargoyles moving away as soon as she faced them.

Not bothering to sit at her usual spot, she stood by the desk and watched as the Headmaster rose as well. "Hermione, I hope you had a good day."

"You as well, Professor," she said with a small smile. She had an inkling that he'd been satisfied with her training with both Moody _and_ Snape. "Are we learning more about Riddle today?"

"Ah, yes. We are, so why don't we immediately move to the Pensieve?"

He walked to the corner of the room, his hand reaching out to a specific vial that he'd kept on the dedicated shelf. "Today, we'll be seeing my meeting with a young boy."

She didn't wait any longer and immediately let the large basin suck her into the liquid, finding herself at the doorway of a small, filthy room. Her eyes quickly found the younger version of Professor Dumbledore, who was sitting on a wooden chair that faced the bed.

On the mattress sat a young boy. He didn't seem to be a teen quite yet, but the mature look on his face had her in doubt. His black hair was swept back neatly, and his pale skin seemed even whiter at the low light that crept through the dirty window.

"Have you experienced anything of this sort, Tom?"

Sitting primly with his knees together, the boy spoke up, "I was able to move objects with my mind . . . I am rather sure that my ability to talk to snakes comes from magic, as well. Is it very common?"

Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes widened, and his lips then folded into a tight line. "I believe it is time to take my leave. Tom, do stop bothering other kids and stealing from the orphanage. Make sure to return everything you've taken and apologize. This kind of behaviour will not be tolerated at Hogwarts," he admonished in a steely tone — nothing like the usual, kind voice she'd heard him use with students.

He hadn't even answered the young boy's question, which had obviously upset him.

Hermione knew that Parseltongue wasn't very common. It was a gift notoriously common among the heirs of Slytherin, so it was a topic that wasn't introduced in a positive light. Still, hadn't the Headmaster been too harsh on a confused boy that knew nothing about it?

The vision in front of her began to swirl and soon, she found herself standing right outside the Pensieve. Professor Dumbledore was already in his seat by the time she composed herself and made herself comfortable in her own chair.

A question had been stuck in her mind since the moment she entered that memory and she needed to get it out before anything else could be discussed. "Professor . . . exactly how old is Tom Riddle supposed to be?"

The old wizard in front of her gave her an approving nod, leaning back on his large chair with a sigh. "Quite swift of you to notice that so soon, Hermione. I myself regret not thinking about it years ago. The memory I showed you, it was of 1938."

He gave her a knowing look as soon as she let out a loud gasp. "He should be forty-nine, but he certainly does not look like it. Professor, I—he looked like he was in his twenties when I met him! How is this possible?"

He nodded, a hand stuck in his frizzy, white beard. "While I haven't seen him in a long time, I know what you are saying is correct, and if I am going on the right path, I'd say that Miss Granger has an answer for that question."

"We should ask her th—"

"No." He put his hand up, letting her enthusiasm crumble to the ground. "We can't risk you knowing the information she knows until your Occlumency barriers are strong enough."

She opened her mouth to protest, but his serious look made her shy away. Instead, Hermione allowed him to address another matter.

"I'm sure you noticed how harsh I was on Tom Riddle," he began and waited for her nod before he continued. "It is one of my many regrets. One that I find myself believing was what started his hatred for me."

_No shit_, she almost said but she bit her tongue. It wasn't a good time for her inner Sirius to come out. "Did you ever talk to him about Parseltongue again?" she asked curiously.

"I'm afraid he learned more than I ever got to teach him." With that cryptic message, he fixed his glasses and gave her a tired smile. "I think that's enough for today, Hermione. Have a good night."

Unable to argue with him, she said, "Goodnight." Hermione stood quietly and left the office more confused than she had been when she'd entered it.

* * *

It didn't take Hermione long to find herself climbing to the top of the Astronomy Tower. Her current favourite book, _Tuck Everlasting_, was safe in her hands with a tight grip, and she stepped to the other side to quite frankly let her body drop to the floor, slumping against the parapet.

Over the period of five years at Hogwarts, Hermione had always loved moments of loneliness, not just for the silence that was welcomed by them, but also for the chances of self-reflection that she got. It wasn't often that she got that sort of opportunity with loud, boisterous friends like the Marauders.

But now, it admittedly didn't feel as nice as it often did. A constant urge to sigh into the empty space pulled at her chest, even as she flipped through the pages of the book. The story too couldn't distract her mind, what with it being about _immortality_, of all things.

Was it a book that Lord Voldemort would enjoy, too?

She clenched her jaw and continued her reading, allowing the soft night breeze to fly past the window and hit her rosy cheeks.

It was only after she heard the soft pit pat of footsteps that she froze, her wand instantly in her hand and pointed at a spot in the dark. The sound got louder and louder, until James appeared before her eyes with his arms raised in surrender.

"_Woah_ \- easy there," he exclaimed carefully, quickly sitting in the spot beside her and glancing at her curiously.

"You watched a horror movie once, and now you keep thinking you're _part_ of one," she muttered, remembering the day Sirius had convinced her to sneak out of Grimmauld Place for a whole day to watch _Jaws_ with the boys. Ever since then, they had been trying to scare her at random times, not so aware that she wouldn't be getting scared like that ever again.

He snickered at her words. "Stop trying to demotivate me. Be a good friend, Hermione!" he cried, a hand over his chest as though she would fall for his dramatics.

"Do you convince Lily like that?" she asked, genuinely curious if he ever managed to trick the redhead.

His smile faltered for a couple of beats, until he bit his lower lip and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. "She's too smart for that."

She had the option to let the mood change go but concerned as she was, her brows knitted together instantly. "What? Did she do something again?"

While she'd thought that things could get better with Lily on her birthday, they hadn't changed much or rather, they had only _worsened_. The Prefect was having a mighty hard time getting used to the dynamics of the group.

Hermione was unsure as to what the specific parts exactly were—James refused to tell her—but she still thought it wasn't a good excuse.

No matter what, the redhead needed to stop looking utterly upset at the thought of sharing James with the group, which was obvious whenever he convinced her to hang with the Marauders.

And Hermione - well, she could only take her brother being insulted so many times. Sirius kept saying it was fine as Lily was his best mate's girlfriend, but that was unjustified. What had the boy even done to bother her so much?

"She got into a fight with Pads," James muttered, scratching the back of his neck. The moment she learned of that fact and noticed the unease on her best friend's face, she could quite confidently say that she'd never wanted to hex the girl so much like she did now.

She wasn't one for violence, but Merlin forbid _anyone_ even dared to raise their voice at Sirius, let alone lay a finger on him.

She had seen and heard enough when they were mere children. Hermione was tired of it but more than that, she was much stronger than when she'd been a nine years old kid.

_What a bitch_, she wanted to say but the voice of Granger stopped her before she could even utter the very first word.

_Don't say that. Lily, she - well, she's just taking her time getting used to the company of your brother!_

Hermione was confused as to why the woman in her unconscious was so adamant to defend Lily. The only reason she could think of was that Granger had met Lily in her life. Oh, Godric - was she the _Minister of Magic_ in her dimension?

_No, but—_

At that moment, James spoke up once again. "I don't know what to do. I know you're mad at her, too. Fuck, maybe even at _me_ for letting her act like that."

Well, at least he knew.

Closing her eyes briefly, she moved closer to grab both of his hands. Looking at him right in the eye, no matter how dark it may be, she shook her head.

"James, you are not the one arguing with Sirius. It's Lily, and I admit, as much as she's trying to fit in, she has also been angering me a lot. The reason I'm telling you is that we are best friends and I'm comfortable enough not to lie to you, which is why I'm also letting you know that next time she comes at Sirius, I won't hesitate giving her a piece of my mind."

His eyes flew to the ground and she could tell he was restraining his lips from completely curving down - just to show that he wasn't upset. She gnawed on her lower lip before retracting a bit.

"Never mind. You know what? This is Sirius's fight, not mine so I'm not going to say more on it. If he doesn't mind it, then I guess I don't care either. I . . . I _am_ happy for you, I swear. Merlin knows how long you've waited to finally hold her hands and look into her _bright, gorgeous_ emerald eyes."

As if she'd flicked on a switch, he turned into his usual cocky self and said, "She has been waiting for me, too. She just didn't know it." He shrugged with a lazy, genuine smile, so she let go of his hands and moved back to her original spot.

"What were you doing here? All alone reading this," he murmured, poking the book on her lap carefully as though it was a Muggle, ticking bomb.

She rolled her eyes. "A book. You know, a printed work with a lot of words? I should get you one for your birthday."

His mouth fell open in shock and he scurried away from her. "Why would you even do that to me? When they're releasing a new series of broomsticks right before March?"

She tapped her chin with her index finger and hummed. "Sirius is there for that gift anyways. Remus and Peter . . . I don't know what they have planned."

He scrunched his nose in defeat, knowing well that he had no other points for his argument. After a few beats, he started, "Moony's birthday is this Friday."

"It is," she confirmed, continuing to flip through her book. It didn't quite remind her of Voldemort anymore. "What about it?"

"Lily's coming with us, too. Do you want to invite Marlene, as well?" he asked, stretching his long legs out and looking at her carefully.

They had planned to sneak Remus into Honeydukes and celebrate it there, ever since they'd gotten permission from the owner, Weston Kines. The elderly man had found out about the passage one day in fourth year, when Peter had caused too much ruckus getting out.

Fortunately, the kind man he was, he'd found it quite amusing that they had chosen to skip classes and spend the day at _his_ store, of all places in Hogsmeade. He'd also been reassured to always find money paid for all the candy they ate, so he let them come whenever they wanted.

"Marlene has a tutoring lesson with Benjy," James smirked at that, "and I don't think we should let anyone else know about the passage, especially after Mr. Kines told us to be careful about it."

"Alright, I'm just glad we are going there before Valentine's day." He shuddered. "Godric, can you imagine if his birthday had been one day later, instead?"

She snorted loudly, bemused. "He'd be quite the target for his little fangirls. It's a pity that he refuses to give anyone a chance."

James fell quiet, and she took that as a sign that he didn't have much to say on the matter, so she shut her book and rubbed her eyes tiredly.

It had gotten quite late and when she turned to look at James, he was already standing. He offered her a hand and she took it, rising on her sore legs with a grunt.

Morning workouts were _still_ not fun.

_Moody said you'll get used to it_, Granger reassured her, and Hermione hoped that they were both right.

"Maybe, he likes someone else," James suggested suddenly as they walked down the stairs.

She halted instantly, making sure to show him the slow, dramatic roll of her eyes and her baffled look. "Him liking someone and not telling me? _Impossible_. He tells me everything."

James looked away and shrugged, his hand darting to his bunch of flyaway, black curls. "I guess."

They fell into a comfortable silence, and the starlight continued to shine over them as they walked back to their dorm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a long time, but with self-isolation and quarantine going on, I thought it was only right to finally write something. Thank you for all the lovely reviews. They have been very reassuring, and I hope everyone is doing alright. Please stay at home, not only for your own safety but also for those who are immunocompromised. Stay safe!


	37. Betrayal

**February, 1976.**

Hermione had to struggle a lot. She restrained herself more than ever - Merlin knew what would happen if she didn't. Peter continued to look like he was going to fall to the floor that very moment, barely holding himself up with those lanky legs.

"You gave her my fucking robes?" she bit, her tone steely, and she took shuddering breaths in between that still failed to calm down her Black temper as she pointed her finger at the redhead.

The Prefect looked baffled at her behaviour.

"She came looking for Prongs and said that she was cold! What else was I supposed to do when she was looking exactly at _that_ one?" Peter eyed her nervously, his cheeks heating up at the confrontation.

Hermione immediately felt a pang of regret in her chest, but she reminded herself that this wasn't something she could easily let go of.

Lily let out a loud sigh, pointing out how _annoyed_ she felt at the discussion.

Hermione could care less! Those robes, they—

"Are they expensive? Is that why you're bothered about me wearing them?" Lily paused, and Hermione clenched her hands tight, her knuckles turning whiter as the words continued to come out of the redhead's mouth.

She needed to _shut the fuck up._

"Come on, Black. I didn't think you'd be one to care about fashion, let alone a worn-out cloak like this one. Even a Muggleborn like me knows that whoever gave this to you probably disliked you and could have done better—"

That's it. Blinding rage hit her like a fan and before she knew it, she had her wand straight at Lily's throat, physically holding herself back from hitting the girl right in the face, instead.

Lily didn't understand it. Of course, she didn't. Those robes - they'd been a _gift_. They'd been given by her father on her last birthday before her first year. Over the years, she'd continued to enlarge the cloak so that it could still fit her, and never did she think of discarding it, no matter how rotten it looked to others.

At the time, it had been the one of the few signs of love from Orion Black and now, it was one of only possessions that could still remind her of him.

Rather than nostalgia and sadness, she always held the simple piece of clothing with a smile, content with it no matter what. And for Lily to insult it so frankly, it was even worse than Peter giving it away when he knew the reason behind it.

He was aware that she never let anyone other than Sirius touch it.

"Hermione!" A tight hand clasped around her wrist and swirled her around with a harsh force.

She came face to face with James and sent him a fierce glare. "Let me go." She bristled and he instantly retreated his hand, moving past her to his girlfriend instead—probably to wrap his arms around her and comfort her.

"I'm sorry, Lils. It's okay. It's not your fault."

_Hermione—_ Granger began with the intent to reason with her, but that was all Hermione could hear before she moved past the boys and away from the dorm. She knew Sirius would follow her, but still didn't let him stop her. Muddled thoughts crept through her mind at an unreadable speed.

Who was James Potter to say that it was okay?

"Hermione," called out Sirius, his thundering steps following close behind. By this time, they were already out by the Black Lake and she let out a bitter laugh.

_Black, Black, Black. Orion Black. Hermione Black. Sirius Black. Regulus Black._

She was going crazy. A true Black by blood.

Sirius was in front of her in a second and before she could move past him once more, he held her shoulders with a firm grip and glared with no malice. "Stop for a fucking second, Hermione."

"Sirius, don't—"

"Listen to me, right now," he said in a firm tone and she found herself unable to do otherwise. Hermione let out a defeated sigh and nodded, allowing him to drag her to their usual spot by the large tree.

The cold breeze wrapped itself around her trembling body, and Sirius didn't hesitate to cast a Warming Charm over them as they sat down.

She narrowed her eyes at the surface of water in front of her, and her twin took the chance to speak up when she began to sneeze.

"She didn't know, Hermione," she opened her mouth to protest and he glared at her yet again before continuing, "Peter knew, I agree. You were angry at him and that made sense because it was _justified_. But with Evans, you just blew up and it was unfair. You weren't as mad at Peter as you were with her."

Hermione looked up at the grey sky, pressing the roof of her mouth with her tongue and waiting for him to continue already.

"I know that this whole time you've just been frustrated with her and this was out of your control, but please - just _apologize_. If I, of all people, can say sorry to Evans, then you can too, right?"

"What's her problem with us, Sirius?" she asked, her voice hitched, and a hot pool of liquid formed in her eyes. "She's fine with Remus and Peter. It's _us_ she has a problem with, and I don't understand it."

He snorted loudly and patted the top of her head with his hand, frizzing her hair up even more. She couldn't even frown at him, as she saw the conflicted furrow of his brows. "I think everyone hates the Blacks, Cub. We do too, don't we?"

"Well, I don't hate Sirius and Regulus Black," she pointed out.

"And Alphard Black," Sirius added.

"And Andromeda Tonks née Black."

Her brother gave her a crooked smile. "I guess we are the only ones aware of the few gems in the family."

"You're forgetting one," she muttered, pushing his shoulder lightly.

He knitted his brows together and tilted his head quizzically. "We have already said my name."

"But not _mine_," she exclaimed with a small pout, and he rolled his eyes.

"Who said I _don't_ hate you?" he asked, brows rising to his forehead in disbelief.

"You're an arse."

"And you're violent. Merlin, you've gotten so fast with that wand of yours. It makes me want to stop messing with you . . . but I'll do it anyway." He shrugged, looking unapologetically cheeky.

"And as for Evans, do you really care about what she thinks? I know I don't. The girl keeps yelling at me for hurting her _dear_ _friends_, even though they all know what the deal is every time I see them."

Hermione grimaced, pursing her lips. "If they know that you're not looking for anything serious and they themselves aren't either, Lily really shouldn't be so bothered. I bet she also wants you to stop the pranks."

Sirius scoffed and flipped his long, black hair back like the dramatic boy he was. "If Professor McGonagall couldn't do it, what makes her think _she'll_ be able to do it? Sometimes she feels more like my mother and less like James's girlfriend."

"Stop - I just imagined _Walburga_ as his girlfriend—"

"Hermione!"

.

After half an hour of Sirius and Hermione just lazing around the Hogwarts grounds, they finally decided to make their way to the dorm and do what was right. She hesitated by the doorway, while Sirius freely entered the room with his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans as he whistled a happy tune.

_Don't be a coward_, Granger told her, and it was the only push Hermione needed to step foot inside. Her eyes found Lily as she showed her boyfriend a Muggle magazine, and she took a deep breath.

_You can do this, Hermione_, she repeatedly told herself. All the anger evaporated, she could no longer ignore the sets of eyes that flew towards her immediately. She could feel her face burn at the attention, but she kept on walking until she stepped past her own bed and approached her best friend's.

Lily kept quiet and Hermione appreciated her for that, well aware that she had to get it all out without any interruptions.

"I am very sorry, Lily. I shouldn't have yelled at you, especially when you had no idea how much the robes meant to me. They were given to me by my Father, so I hope you can understand as to why I was so upset. Again, it's still my fault for lashing out on you, and I hope you can forgive me," she rushed to say without a pause, swallowing thickly as she looked at the redhead for a reaction.

Lily gave her a tight smile and nodded slowly. "It's okay. James already told me how much it meant to you."

"_Ah_," she let out, her eyes now fixed on her best friend. He looked relieved that Hermione had come around, and she guessed that was what mattered the most - his happiness. "That's good then."

Unable to stand there any longer, she then swirled around and walked towards Peter, whose eyes were bulging out at each step she took. Hermione raised her arms in surrender. "I'm sorry, Pete. I shouldn't have gotten so mad at you."

He shook his head violently. "I'm sorry, too! I knew everything, so I should have given her something else."

Hermione sent him a small smile and shrugged, instead pointing at the paper in front of him as a change of subject. "Are you drawing something?"

The widening of his eyes stopped, allowing his cheeks to redden, instead. "Huh - yeah. It's a drawing of the Headmaster. Do you want to see?" he asked in a small voice, his gaze getting steadier at her vigorous nodding.

She found that even Professor McGonagall wouldn't mind looking at the caricatures of Albus Dumbledore. Peter had so much potential and despite the incessant coughing in her unconscious, she proceeded to voice it to her best friend.

The beaming smile that she received was definitely worth it.

* * *

James wasn't sure of how to feel when Remus suggested he and Lily go see what Hermione was up to.

Sure, it had been a few days after - well, the whole _encounter_, but James could still feel every bit of the awkwardness between his girlfriend and Hermione. Not to mention that the cold his best friend had gotten—after doing Merlin knows what—had made her oh, so irritable. It was hard to get around her without her threatening to hex his bollocks off.

It seemed that Sniv—_Snape_ didn't bother Hermione so much with his Potions lessons, considering the fact that she still attended them this week regularly.

On the other hand, it was a miracle if James got to catch her during breakfast lately and here, the Slytherin had the privilege to spend so much time with his best friend.

It was only when he sat down at the table, that he realized this was the perfect chance to get Snape to go away and leave him with Hermione.

James dropped his bag to the floor with a loud thud and watched with an arched brow as Snape's face turned sour - like he'd rather vomit than stay there any longer.

Of course, he thought this was the perfect time to announce what a _great day_ it had been — Quidditch practice had just made him realize how _perfect_ his skills were. They were going to beat the Slytherins with no doubt.

But just then, his Lily-flower began to plead with her own best friend to stay with them and of course, the Slytherin relented.

Just as he thought that he would feel a pang of jealousy in his chest at that, James was surprised at how unaffected he felt with the whole exchange. Maybe Lily was right—he had truly matured.

It didn't feel that different, though.

He sighed defeatedly, looking over at Hermione, instead. The chestnut-haired witch was moving to break off another square from her chocolate bar, when Remus snatched it out of her hands in no speed and took a large bite out of it, not caring one bit of her hushed complaints.

It seemed that there were only so many warnings she could take from Madam Pince and rightly so. He still shuddered whenever he thought of the time the enraged woman had banned him from the library for filling the entire room with toilet paper.

At least, Padfoot had gotten away.

"Get your own, Moony," Hermione whined, trying to take back the bar.

"He's going to wolf down all of it," he cheeked, laughing quietly at his own joke. Hermione stopped to give him a warning glare as Remus pushed her away, scooting closer to James, instead.

"Stop being so selfish, Hermione," muttered Remus, giving her an innocent widening of his eyes.

"_You're_ telling me that?" she asked, just as baffled as James was. When it came to chocolate, no one could be as selfish as the werewolf Marauder. Hermione always talked about how friendship was temporarily put on hold whenever it came down to food with Remus.

With Remus _only_, it seemed. James didn't remember her having any kind of rules with _him_.

"_Anyways_." James cleared his throat and tried to gather their attention. "What were you guys doing?" He sent Snape an impassive look - not hateful or anything - making sure to also look at Lily with an adoring smile.

"We were studying," Hermione replied, and James was well aware that Snape wasn't going to talk to him, no matter what went down. He was about to address him again, when Hermione called out his name.

"Oh - hey, James! I could tutor you some more too, if you can get that chocolate bar away from the devil's hands," she offered with an innocent smile.

He paused, looking at her carefully. If he was being truthful, he'd only asked her for help because he'd seen how much she needed a distraction and well - there wasn't much he could think of at the time other than his failing grade in Charms!

And as he narrowed his eyes at her pale skin—her cheeks used to be filled with such a lovely colour of peach rose—he could tell that she had been having way too many thoughts lately, as well.

The little bookworm had a brain too big for her own good.

But she was _smart_, so encouraging that she actually made him want to do well in his studies - all to succeed in showing that _she_ did well in tutoring him.

He felt someone nudge his foot and when his gaze slid over to Lily, he could clearly tell that it had been her. Her mesmerizing emerald eyes shone with an uncertainty, one that had him regretting even thinking of studying with someone other than her.

He had spent five years daydreaming about the day he would get to annoy his Lily-flower as she urged him to study with her in the library, so who was he to change now?

"Nope. Lily can help me," he said with a flippant shrug, and his redhead beamed brightly at his words. Even Snape seemed satisfied with the answer, surprising James for even being acknowledged by the boy.

"Slytherins," Hermione muttered, cracking her neck. Now that he thought about it, she'd joined him in complaining about the soreness in her muscles and the crack of her bones — something he also did after every Quidditch practice.

"What?" Remus asked through a mouthful of chocolate, and Hermione scrunched her nose in distaste.

"Nothing," she said, gathering the cuffs of her sleeves between her fingers and scooting closer to the boy to wipe away the spots of chocolate on the corners of his lips. "You turn into the rest of the boys when it comes to chocolate."

Remus gave her a wolfish smile, placing the last two squares of the bar in her hand. James could tell that she was struggling to stifle a smile.

"How kind of you," she drawled in a bored tone — perfectly mimicking Snape's tone. James eyed the Slytherin once she was done, much like the rest of the group, who had noticed her mimicry.

It was a harmless joke, and he noticed that even the corners of Snape's lips had lifted a tiny fraction. Then, the Slytherin looked between Remus and Hermione, and he leaned against the edge of the table.

Hermione got closer, probably thinking he was going to say how accurate it was or something, only for him to whisper something in Lily's ear, instead.

James wasn't sure how to feel about that. It was glaringly obvious that they were discussing what he'd continued to wonder since the beginning of their fifth year.

Did Hermione like Remus back?

The werewolf began to complain about the upcoming Potions's test, a subject he struggled with due to his enhanced smell sense, but no other student than the Marauders knew that was the true reason.

He watched as Remus allowed her to pat the top of his head despite it being the pre-moon time - a period where he disliked anyone touching him.

"Professor Slughorn should go easy on you," she mumbled with a frown. "Come on. Put your head on my lap."

James thought he'd misheard her. He had, hadn't he? There was _no_ _way_ she'd just offered Remus a head massage. He - well, he thought that was something only _James_ could get. Since when had that changed?

An immense heat twisted deep in his chest and he had to force himself to look away before his expression could get any louder about the—the _betrayal_ he felt.

Sure, he hadn't asked for one ever since he'd started dating Lily, but . . . James sighed - he was being unreasonable; he could tell. A simple head massage meant nothing, and things changed constantly. Now, he'll just have to lay his head on Lily's lap, instead.

So, he forced his gaze to remain where it was as Hermione rubbed Remus's scalp in a soothing motion.

"This is nice," Remus commented in a low voice, closing his eyes with a loud sigh. "My head was hurting too much."

She rolled her eyes. "You should've told me before. I'd have given you the chocolate myself. Let's just hope this migraine of yours stops bothering you before tomorrow."

"What's tom—Oh, no . . . I swear I remember my birthday, unlike you."

"Sure you do." Hermione laughed quietly and flicked his forehead. James couldn't help but arch his brow at her when she looked up, though she just rolled her eyes and carried on with her task.

He looked behind her just in time to notice Sirius, who'd finally come back from his shower and looked exasperated.

"Will you for the sake of Merlin get off my sister? It's always my own mates!"

Remus flipped Sirius off, and the Black twin then turned to James, instead. "You're supposed to tell me about this stuff!" He moved his hands around wildly and waited for an answer, but James merely shrugged, unable to use his voice at the moment.

Hermione's throaty chuckle turned into a coughing fit, making her blindly push Remus away so that he wouldn't fall sick, as well. Their best friend rolled down the floor with a loud thud, and Hermione grimaced. She finally cracked her eyes open to find Remus glaring up at her.

"He deserved that," Sirius muttered as he sat down and James chortled, unable to hold back his amusement at the whole scene.

Her eyes met James's and she narrowed them at him. "What are you laughing at?"

James tensed and he blurted out the first thing he could think of. "You, princess." He shrugged offhandedly, hoping it came as cocky and arrogant as he'd intended.

Her mouth fell open and she helped Remus up silently, urging him to sit away from her. "Are you sick, too?" she finally asked, giving James a scrutinizing look.

He looked around to find everyone staring at him as well—they were being too dramatic!—and he bit his lip, scratching the back of his neck with a sweaty hand. He wasn't sure of what had just happened.

"Uh - no? You get better soon, though. Come on, Lily. Let's go somewhere else."

He was up in an instant and held out his hand to his gorgeous girlfriend, whose fingers intertwined with his own in a tight hold.

Unbreakable.

Or so he hoped, anyways.

"I just got here, and he already left. I see how it is, Prongs!" James heard his best mate say, and he chuckled, shaking his head as he raised his hand in a salute.

"Love ya, too!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it! I would love to hear what you have to say about it, especially the last bit in James's POV. You can see that he's starting to notice a few changes in his feelings towards his girlfriend and his best friend.


	38. Sugar Rush

**February, 1976.**

Hermione's lips curved into a wide smile, looking over her best friend with adoring eyes. In the duration of each class, more than one person had come over to wish Remus a happy birthday and she couldn't be happier.

His slightly filled cheeks burned at the attention he continued to receive, especially when Professor McGonagall went as far as to point out how the calmest member of the Marauders was the one to interrupt class today — not on purpose, of course.

She nudged his arm, grinning when he gave her a haste look. "Look at you, Moony. Getting called out by our role model," she teased.

He shushed her, making sure to keep his eyes fixed on the teacher only and going as far as taking his notes without looking down at his parchment.

Remus was truly one of a kind.

Much like James, though the boy had stopped trying to suddenly become left-handed. He had just figured that holding hands during Transfiguration may not be that necessary.

Good for him.

Hermione dipped her quill into her pot of ink and waited a couple of seconds before writing down the new sets of points that Professor McGonagall had just made. While not completely needed for her defense training, Hermione always believed that any kind of knowledge was always good to possess, necessary for you at the moment or not.

And to Hermione, O.W.L.s. were meant to take as seriously as anything else, no matter what Sirius may believe. Really, for a name like his, she didn't remember him taking anything of importance seriously.

_Set him straight!_

She nodded at what Granger just said.

Feeling a kick on the leg of her chair, she waited until Professor McGonagall was done talking before turning around to face Marlene. Rather than confident and composed like always, the blonde looked frazzled.

She arched a brow. "Everything okay, Marls?"

"Herms—_ugh!_ Hermione, I take back what I said about wanting to be alone with Benjy. Why don't you join us, too?" Marlene pleaded with her wide brown eyes, taking her hands and holding them between her own.

"Marlene, there's nothing to worry about. He's not going to _bite_ you. He's most definitely the sweetest boy at Hogwarts. And he wouldn't have invited only _you_, if he didn't want to spend time with you! So, get your arse ready to be at the library after lunch, or I'm going to—"

Two hands on each side of her shoulders, she was dragged back into her chair to face the front of the class. "That's enough violent thoughts for today," Remus mumbled under his breath. "Don't get me in any more trouble with McGonagall."

"Professor McGonagall," she reminded him, giving Marlene one last look before turning back around. "Are you done with your homework for tomorrow?"

"It was given today, so no?" he answered slowly, "please, don't tell me you're planning anything."

She shook her head and patted his arm placatingly. "Oh, no. I'm not."

He smiled slightly.

"I already planned what I had to."

His smile dropped.

"Seriously? Don't tell me we're going to miss Care of Magical Creatures because of it. This is the last chance I have at getting the Fire Crabs to stop running away from me."

"Don't worry, Moony. We'll be back by then. Even the boys want to see it happen before . . . you know . . . the full moon," she said, remembering how closely that day was approaching.

"Don't remind him, Hermione," James whispered from next to her, and she sent him a quick look. It seemed he had switched spots with Lily.

"Trust me, Prongs. My body gives me enough reminders," Remus said with a loud groan, looking seconds away from banging his head against the table to forget the pain he was already experiencing.

Him and James then began to bicker, totally ignoring Hermione, who was still sitting in between them as it happened.

_Hermione . . ._ Granger began, sounding cautious as she made her appearance known.

_What?_

_Do you know about the Wolfsbane Potion?_

_That's it? Of course, I know. It's a Potion that does not cure lycanthropy, but rather eases the symptoms and allows the human to keep their mind even as they transform into a werewolf_, Hermione explained in her typical know-it-all tone.

She remembered the excitement among the Marauders that had spread when it first started being talked about in the Prophet, only for it to be way too expensive to be bought. It could also be brewed, but the recipe was still known only to the inventor, Damocles Belby.

_I . . . may know how to brew it. I could help you_, Granger confessed, albeit hesitantly. _I shouldn't have waited so long to tell you._

You shouldn't have, Hermione muttered in her mind. She had her grip tight on her quill to keep her hands busy and her magic subdued. To know that this whole time, the knowledge and the way to stop her best friend's suffering had been in her own mind, it hurt that she had taken so long.

It hurt because she had come to trust Granger, though it seemed that there was still a long way to earn the woman's trust. What else did she need to do to prove her loyalty?

_Will you help me brew it?_ Hermione asked, unable to contain the rush of nerves that hit her at the mere thought.

_Of course, I will. Remus . . . I admired him very much._ There was a sorrow to Granger's voice that Hermione didn't like very much, nor did she want to acknowledge at the moment.

Not today, at least.

* * *

Once the Marauders and Hermione reached the third floor and the sight of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor finally greeted their eyes, they allowed Remus to do the honours and be the one to say the password.

"_Dissendium_," he said, stepping back to allow the One-Eyed Witch to reveal a short slide. As always, Sirius didn't wait one second before jumping on it, letting it lead him to the tunnel.

She hadn't realized she'd gotten lost in her thoughts until two hands wrapped around her waist, startling her. Before she could turn around and question why James felt the need to do that—how did she even realize it was him?—he picked her up in no time and sat her down on the top of the slide.

"Wha—"

One push and Hermione went sliding down in the dark, toppling to the floor with a loud thud.

"James, you—_ack!_ Prick!"

"You know she's not angry, when she can't come up with proper names to call you," Sirius commented lightly, giving her a hand to help her up.

She brushed off the dust on her black jeans as James finally joined the rest of the group in the dark. "I know right? It's adorable to see her acting like she's mad. Oh, here - _Lumos_."

She came to face to face with the most arrogant arse in the entire world and glowered at him. "I'll show you adorable," she threatened, squinting her eyes at him to see if he'd dare to mess with her.

"Oh, she's got claws!"

Sirius snorted loudly. "More like tiny paws."

"Err - guys. I can't believe you planned a 'Hermione bash party' for my birthday," Remus commented, seemingly interested in where this was going.

"That's not part of the plan," Peter added. "I think it just comes naturally."

"Wow, Peter. Even you?" she asked, exasperated at the whole lot of them. They'd just wasted precious time in a narrow tunnel, when they could have already been out, satisfying any sweet craving they wanted. "Can we just go?"

"Alright. Start marching, lil ducklings!" began Sirius, who was followed by a bunch of 'Yes, Sir's. She was starting to seriously question whether they were doing okay.

"Was that supposed to be cool?" she asked, hurrying to keep up with their large steps.

Sirius stopped to wrap his arm around her shoulders, looking down at her with a solemn look. "Only those who are cool can know that, so . . ."

"—So, you don't know, then," she cut him off.

He gave her an offended look. "So, I'm _obviously_ the one to know. Not you—"

"—Well. I could care less—"

"—It proves you aren't cool—"

Her steps halted and Sirius's arm moved away from her. "You know what? I _am_ cool," she said defiantly, her nose up in the air - definitely not taking a no for an answer.

James sighed. "I think we all know who's actually the cool member of this group."

"It's me," Remus said, making everyone's eyes turn to him. "Now, let's go. I've already figured out what we're doing and I'm not letting any chocolate go because of you guys."

"Good job, Sirius!" Hermione whined, walking even faster to catch up with Remus.

"Hey! What did I do?!"

.

What felt like a thousand days later—it had only been an hour—they finally reached the cellar of the shop, sneaking in quietly, despite knowing that Mr. Kines had already closed the shop for a few hours for them.

"_Whoa_. Why is it so empty?" Remus asked, looking around the large room with wide eyes. They were beginning to shift between green and amber, so she wasted no time in picking his favourite kind of chocolate and handing it to him.

"Because Mr. Kines is the kindest man on earth?" Hermione suggested.

"After James Potter, of course," James added in a serious tone, picking up a toffee and popping it on his tongue. Even with his mouth closed, she could see the motions of his tongue as it stuck out on the skin of his cheek. She blinked — he had looked quite handsome just then.

_Nothing new_, she reminded herself. It was just James, after all.

He noticed her staring and quirked his brow, sending her a wide smile that had her hurrying to look away.

"And we had the amazing idea of spending your birthday at your favourite place of all times," Sirius added grandiosely, dragging a fifth chair to the small table in the corner. He patted the top of the smooth wooden surface. "Come sit."

.

Once they gathered enough sweets to last them a lifetime, rather than just lunch, they filled their seats with equally satisfied smiles.

Though, no one looked as happy as Remus. "We should do this every year — no. For _every_ person's birthday."

She scrunched her nose, unsure. "I'm not looking to have cavities by the time Wormtail's birthday comes around."

_Good_, Granger said. _If Hugo were to see this . . . it would be a nightmare. You guys need to tone it down!_

* * *

Feeling rebellious and still quite irritated at Granger, Hermione met James's eyes and her lips formed into a wicked grin. "Never mind. Time to get sugar high."

In the span of two hours, they had all turned into brutally honest strangers, blurting out everything they could when the other stopped talking.

"So, when I see Hermione playing with Regulus when I _told_ her to wait for me, do you know what I decide to do? I hide her teddy, so that she can come to me and ask _me_ about it."

Everyone gasped dramatically, shocked at what he'd done. Hermione almost fell off her chair as she pointed an accusing finger at him. "It was you?! You lost him, didn't you?"

Sirius grimaced, taking a sip of his milkshake. "Walburga took it from me and set it on fire."

"Oh."

"Moving on," James exclaimed, shaking his head repeatedly. "I still can't believe Sirius was my first kiss."

"Hold on," Remus started, his eyes wide.

Gaping like a fool wouldn't do her any good, Hermione decided. "What did you just say?"

"He's not wrong," Sirius said, his voice now slurred. "It was in first year and he needed to be good at snogging in the future for Evans. Good thing he did that—it felt like I was kissing a trunk."

"I'm good now! Lily will attest to that." He looked around, waiting for his girlfriend to magically apparate in the shop at his call.

"She's not here," Peter reminded him kindly. "She had something to do in Potions, remember?"

James's face fell and he nodded, slumping against the chair quietly. Hermione pushed her drink away, deciding that it was better if her best friend had it, instead.

His hazel gaze moved towards her, to the milkshake and then back to her, and he grinned foolishly as he finally picked it up and took a sip from it. "Hmm. Good. This is nice. You're so nice, Hermione. You didn't have to apologize to Lily, but you still did it. You have such a big heart and . . . this is so _sweet_, ah . . . like _you_."

Sirius and Peter were lost in their abyss of sugarland, and only Remus seemed to be eyeing James like he was eager to hear something from him.

Hermione looked back at her best friend and sighed, lightly tapping his cheek to wake him up from his drunken dream. "You're imagining your girlfriend. Go to her if you miss her so much," she said, playing with the candy in her hands.

James snatched it out of her hands and pulled out a small caramel chocolate bite from the wrapper. She opened her hand for him to give it back to her, but he fed it to Remus, instead. "Not when the birthday boy is here. Am I right, Moony?"

"I guess . . .? Thank you, I _think_." He shook his head, scratching the back of it. "I think we've had too much. We're going to miss class if we don't leave right now."

"You're right, Professor Lupin!" Hermione stood up in an instant and she swayed on her feet, stumbling here and there before James caught her arms in a soft hold. She let out a hitched breath, blinking at him.

His fragrance surrounded her everywhere, hitting her with a strange mix of apple, citrus, and spice. It reminded her of comfort, of peace, of . . .

"Easy there. _Ugh_, I think watching your face fall flat on the floor would've helped me wake up from this sugar rush more." He groaned, moving away from her and taking off his glasses to rub his eyes tiredly.

She narrowed her eyes at him but stayed silent, choosing to force Sirius up, instead. If her brother thought he could convince her to just skip class, he was very wrong.

"But you're still so sick," muttered Sirius, his brows knitted together to show just how concerned he was.

"It doesn't matter. I'll just go get another Potion from Madam Pomfrey later, so don't worry so much about me, Padfoot."

"I was just being a concerned brother," Sirius said quickly. "Me using my little sister's well being as an excuse? Never. That's something Regulus would do."

She bopped his nose, smiling widely as she did so. "Well, good thing he's not in our year, right?"

"I guess," he muttered, blowing out a frustrated breath. "What a loser."

"Don't insult Reggie."

"Don't insult Reggie," Sirius mocked in a high-pitched voice, walking faster and away from her.

Granger laughed. _What a sore loser!_

_Don't insult my twin!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed our dear Moony's birthday gift and found it sweet enough. Feel free to let me know what you think! Feedback is always welcomed.


	39. I Got You

**February, 1976.**

The day couldn't get any more cursed, Hermione decided. Sure, she'd spent plenty of years at Hogwarts, but this _had_ to be the worst Valentine's day till date.

She sat in the Great Hall quietly - or well, as quietly as she could with a clogged nose that had her nostrils reaching for oxygen. She hadn't decided whether she should curse herself for going out in the cold to calm her anger, or the Fates themselves, who had decided that it had been long since Hermione's last breakdown.

After waking up from yet another nightmare — one that consisted of Riddle's new, distorted face and that sodding cup once more — she had decided to skip her daily run and exercises in the early morning.

That didn't do her any good, leaving her feeling lazy and powerless. Really, she'd even started to miss the sweat that trickled down her face after putting her muscles to work. She already feared that all the progress had gone down the drain in just one day.

Not to mention that in a few minutes, she had yet another training session with Moody. So, she decided that enough was enough. She wouldn't waste any more time!

Finishing up the mini monologue in her mind, she blew out a frustrated breath and glared at the package in front of her. "This is not a prank, right?" she asked the boys, eyeing each one of them appraisingly. Lily merely rolled her eyes.

James huffed out a laugh. "Our prank is in my hands, Hermione." He wasn't wrong. He'd proudly shown off everyone the sticky glue, slime or whatever, that he'd twirled around his finger earlier. They were also informed of how, if they were to come in contact with it, their hand would sadly be stuck to his until he decided to let go.

Needless to say, they all remained at a safe distance from him even now.

Even Lily had been hesitant to sit by his side.

Hermione sighed and opened the small box, finding a small vial that looked like it contained quite a familiar Potion. "No way," she breathed out and smiled widely.

She picked up the note attached to it and read out, "I noticed that you haven't been feeling all too well. Here's a Pepper Up Potion for you . . . Please, take care!"

Sirius snatched the note out of her hands and glared at it, as though it could reveal who the sender had been. "People are getting way too nice on Valentine's day," he muttered and looked back at her with careful eyes. "Are you sure you should drink that?"

Hermione paused. That was a good question — had it been any other day, she wouldn't even have dared to touch it. But today, the medicine looked like a gift sent from heaven, so she nodded desperately. "I was thinking about going to Madam Pomfrey just now. I have something important to do in a few minutes, so I'll just go ahead and be reckless for once."

"For once?" Sirius snorted. "Don't think I've forgotten about how ready you were to barge in Dumbledore's office after that vi—"

She cut him off with a kick on his shins, and he coughed loudly, looking away. "Ah, Cynthia! Is that you? How about you show me that broom closet you were talking about?"

Her brother wasted no time in getting to his feet and leading the dark haired Ravenclaw away from the tables with a strut.

Lily scrunched her nose and opened her mouth to say something, but seemingly thought better of it. Instead, her emerald gaze pinned on Hermione and she smiled slightly. "Aren't you going to drink it, Hermione?"

Thrown off at being called by her first name by the redhead after so long, Hermione blinked and nodded mutely.

Remus leaned closer to her and sniffed, perplexed. "It smells a bit extravagant. Don't you think?"

James made a noise in the back of his throat. "Moony, what are you talking about? It smells _familiar_, like—"

"Guys? Can you stop showing off your smell senses when I'm over here with a clogged nose?" Hermione argued, getting more exhausted than ever. This simple cold had really started to take a toll on her health. "Can someone distract me? I can never tolerate the flavour of this."

"Why don't you listen to someone, while you drink it? Talk to her, Remus," Lily suggested. Her green eyes widened at the werewolf, who looked thrown off but shrugged, anyways.

"Uh, is - how is Regulus doing?"

She threw him an exasperated look at his attempt. "Good? He's facing our way, so you can clearly see him."

Defeated, Hermione inhaled as much as she could with a clogged nose, before she picked up the small vial and drank it down all in one go, as though she had a parched throat.

She was surprised to notice a sweet aftertaste to it. Or even just a whole taste of its own.

Her eyesight distorted and she shook her head, blinking a few times to clear her sight. "Uh - can someone tell me why this tastes so—"

"Bad? You've told us a few times," she heard someone say dryly. Her head snapped to the side, and she found her body inching closer and closer to Remus.

"Remus," she breathed out, holding his arm like he was her lifeline. "I like you. I like you so much — I can't imagine my life without you."

Remus's face screwed up on one side, and he let out a light, strained laugh. "The same goes with me, Hermione. But are you okay?"

Her hand moved up, till it touched the back of his neck, and she shook her head. "I need to kiss you."

His eyes widened and he sprung back, creating a bigger distance between them. A sob wretched out of her mouth and just as she made to move closer to him once again, someone gripped her hand and forced her back.

She turned to face James—had he jumped on top of the table to get to her side?—and she glared at him. "Let me go," she said hotly, struggling to loosen the grip of his fingers against her own.

"It was obviously a fucking Love Potion, Hermione. Come on." He stood up, urging her to get up with the pull of his hand. "Find us on the Map, and don't come unless you get the antidote from Slughorn."

Hermione's eyes remained fixed on Remus, and she tried to call out to him, even as James pulled her out of the room, ignoring the murmurs of the few students that had waited to leave for Hogsmeade.

* * *

James wasn't sure of what else to do. He'd locked Hermione and himself up in a random classroom, charming it closed at his will, so that Hermione wouldn't be able to open it.

His head fell against the door, and he sat on the floor with crossed legs as he looked at the girl before his eyes. She'd mimicked his posture, though her shoulders were slouched, and she seemed to be wiping away a few tears.

"Don't cry," he tried with a soft voice. Her caramel eyes flew towards him and he thought of it as a mistake - meeting her fierce eye, full of deep, smoldering fire.

"I want to see Remus."

James groaned, raising his hand to rake it through his hair. He felt Hermione's hand follow his and he stopped immediately, letting their intertwined hands fall back on his knee.

His mind supplied him with the memory of the first time he'd gotten to hold her hand. During their first encounter, it had only been a brief touch, to help her up. Now that he looked back at the amount of times she'd fallen because of him, he found himself chuckling.

"Don't laugh." Her voice broke and her eyes were seconds away from pouring out hot tears. He could see a tear already fall down to her cheek and his other hand immediately went to wipe it away.

"This is where Amos and I broke up."

His hand froze and he eyed her carefully, swallowing when he saw her mouth lift into a small smile. "I thought I wouldn't be able to ever love someone. But now I know what it feels like. I do love Remus."

He wanted to shake his head - tell her that no, you're being tricked.

But what did James know? Maybe, she _had_ fallen in love with Remus, after all.

He gave her a tight smile. "What does it feel like?" he asked, genuinely curious if she would be able to answer under the effect of the Love Potion.

Hermione blinked at him, the motion was slow, and her eyes widened. "I love Remus," she repeated mechanically. "It feels nice . . ."

Her brows furrowed together, and she spoke once again, "Do you think he loves me, too?"

Subtle anger poured into his veins and he clenched his fists together. This was a question he wanted to avoid at all costs, even as he pushed himself to look at her.

A tendril of hair had fallen in front of her eye, and just like always, she tried to blow it away and was unsuccessful.

The fury in his body left him like a whoosh.

James reached up with a sigh and swept a lock of her hair behind her ear, brushing her cheek with his thumb as he did so.

Being close enough—when did that happen?—he was able to see that the colour of her cheeks had finally returned, causing him to break out in an awed smile. They had bloomed like cherry blossoms; breathtaking and worth the wait.

He couldn't take that away from her. She deserved an answer.

"I think he does," he ground out earnestly, a soft grunt escaping his throat that sounded way too confident. It felt like the most obvious answer.

Sure, he had never specifically asked Remus if he did — he wasn't sure if he had the guts to do that, for some reason — but over the years, it just started to feel like the automatic assumption.

Where Hermione was, there was Remus. The two shared their love for academics, nature, and Merlin knows what else. He had always assumed that was what soulmates were like, but . . .

He wasn't so sure. He didn't _want_ to be sure. He liked the kind of uncertainty that remained when it came to his two best friends' relationship.

Then, there was him and Lily. He continued to believe that they were definitely soulmates. In his mind, it had been like that since that day, five years ago.

He finally had the chance to love her as his girlfriend and he wanted her to actually be his first love, because that's what he believed the Fates wanted, too. Or else, why would Lily have given him a chance after so long?

"That's good, isn't it? We can finally kiss and get married after Hogwarts." She sighed dreamily and gave him a wide smile, allowing James to notice the small dimple that appeared on her cheek only when she was truly the happiest.

He felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. Had he always been waiting eagerly for such a smile to appear?

It was reasonable if he had. There was nothing wrong in wanting his best friend to experience genuine happiness.

"Ah! Slow down, Cub." He gave a small, short laugh, taking a hold of her other hand. Her breath hitched and he inhaled calmly, clearing his throat before he backed away. "Don't start imagining little werewolf babies with him, already."

James was left with a bitter taste in his mouth, and he made a sound like a strangled cough. He - _well_, he just hoped no one's feelings were going to get hurt. If this was all fake.

_If._

Her cheeks burned and she looked away as they fell into a slightly awkward silence. He tried to think of something to say that might help him backtrack, but everything he came up with sounded stupid in his head.

It seemed like he still had no tact. His mum would be disappointed.

"Let me see him. Get me out of here, please. I really need to tell him how I feel," she once again let out all in one go, narrowing her eyes at him.

She pulled his hand, forcing them both on their feet, and he fumbled, caught by the acridness of Hermione's tone. Never in their fights, serious or not, had she ever looked at him so loathfully and yet, this Potion had forced her to do just that.

He almost glared at her then, his teeth grounded tightly. He wanted to find whoever was behind all this and slug them black and blue. Hermione had never messed with anybody, and she would be the last Marauder anyone would think of getting back at.

She had a heart all too big. His best friend was the kind of person to willingly go to each person and reverse any charm that the rest of the boys had cast as a prank.

To see her now, troubled and tricked into this foolery — it had him wanting the Earth to swallow him whole with guilt. Even as she continued to pull at his hand, he didn't move an inch. Merlin forbid, but if someone were to take advantage of her, he would never be able to forgive himself.

"Open the door," called Sirius as his knuckles rapped against the wood. James sent Hermione a look that he hoped was intimidating—of course, there was no way she found it anything but funny in this state—so, he just sighed and turned the knob, moving away from the door.

Sirius entered the classroom with frantic eyes that immediately fell on his sister, softening as they searched her face. His expression twisted with relief and he let out sigh. "Hermione," he breathed out with a smile. "Are you okay?"

"Sirius," she started irritably before he could ask any other questions. "Can you move? I need to go see Remus."

She tried to loosen James's grip on her hand, but he held onto her hand tightly to stop her from fleeing. He couldn't let anything else happen to her.

Sirius groaned and finally glanced at James. "I got the antidote. Regulus found me and almost kicked me in the arse for not being there when it happened," he said, his hand pulling out a vial from the pocket of his jacket. "Help me get her to drink it?" he asked with a tired sigh.

James nodded and moved closer to Hermione, remembering the day they'd danced together. Fingers still intertwined with hers, he let his other hand trace the arc of her waist, the grip still not tight enough to hurt her. "Hermione, look at me."

She blinked at him, her breathing shallow. "James, I need to see Remus. I lov—"

Sirius moved to keep her mouth open and slipped the transparent liquid inside, waiting until no last sip remained. He stepped back, and they both watched with bated breaths as Hermione blinked more rapidly by the second.

She stumbled on her steps and panicked as he was, James grabbed her wrist and pulled the girl against his chest, allowing her warm breath through his shirt's fabric.

Hermione moved away with a groan, and he took the chance to remove the glue from both of their hands.

"What—" She glanced behind him and despair crossed her expression as her hands flew to her mouth.

"Hermione!"

James craned his neck to find Remus, Lily and Peter standing by the door. The werewolf slowly walked up to Hermione and licked his lips, trying to choose his words very carefully.

Hermione's lips parted on a breath as she continued to shake her head. "I'm so sorry, Remus. I - Merlin, I can't do this. I'm sorry." She rushed towards the door, too quick for any of them to stop her.

James stared at the spot where she had been kneeling, and his hand twitched. "I'll go," he told Sirius, stopping the boy before he could run after his sister.

Now, he just had to find her.

* * *

James let out a relieved sigh when he found Hermione still by Barnabas the Barmy's portrait. He slipped quietly inside the room she'd created before the door could close.

He looked around with wide eyes. It was a small, plain bedroom with pastel blue walls, furnished with a large bookcase and a basic desk with a chair.

"You're not supposed to be here."

His gaze flew towards Hermione and he sent her a sheepish glance. "Too late, isn't it? Where are we, anyways?"

Her stunned gaze fitted around her own creation, and she shook her head. "It's someone's bedroom, I'm guessing."

He arched a brow at her and shuffled across the room, joining her on the large twin bed. "I think anyone would've been able to come up with that observation. Not your brightest moment, Hermione," he joked good-naturedly, hoping for a smile to appear on her face like it had earlier. At her frown, his charming grin transformed into a much more serious look.

"I haven't had many of those, lately," she complained, falling on the soft mattress with a groan. "I hate myself."

He laid down on his side and watched her carefully. Her hair fanned around her head like a halo, and he was close enough that it tickled his ear, but he didn't move. "It's not your fault."

"You don't even know what I'm talking about," she muttered, staring up at the ceiling. "Honestly, our hands are not even stuck anymore. You didn't have to come."

He snorted, giving her a bewildered look, even though she wasn't facing him. "You're telling me that just because we aren't stuck together, we aren't best friends anymore?"

The sullen look on her face eased. "You're right," she allowed, and he almost pumped a fist in the air at that. It wasn't often that Hermione Black said that to someone, especially James.

"Then, tell your best friend what's bothering you, other than - well, that whole thing that just happened with Remus," he encouraged her, grimacing at the fact that he'd just reminded them both of the event.

It wasn't a good start.

Defeated, she said, "Okay, but no questions. Please." He nodded, and she probably saw him from the corner of her eyes, because she continued, "I just disappointed someone who already finds it hard to believe that I'm strong."

"Who is it? It's not Abraxas, is it?" he asked. He hadn't met the older man, but he still found it quite strange that Hermione was able to get along with a Malfoy. Especially, after she'd avoided Lucius Malfoy for so many years.

"You said you wouldn't ask questions."

"Right. Sorry."

"It's not Abraxas . . . Let's just say that if I don't satisfy him, I'm not going to move forward and do what I have to. I can't waste time, James!" She groaned, pulling a fistful of her curls in frustration.

He grabbed her hand and pushed himself up on his elbow to look at her properly. "Stop that, Hermione. I don't understand what you're talking about—it's definitely not just an essay—but from what I can tell, you're pushing yourself too hard. Are you giving yourself realistic expectations?"

She snapped her mouth shut and blinked up at him. "What? I - well, I'm not sure," she babbled, her mouth opened and closed around words that refused to part from her lips. James stayed there calmly, letting her fumble over her words, though he had never seen Hermione so frustrated at not knowing something.

"Would peasants like us be able to accomplish the same thing so quickly?" he finally clarified, once she stopped. He bit down a fond smile when her eyes showed an obvious glimmer of realization.

"No," she answered quickly, and he gave her a knowing look.

"Well, there you go. I felt a similar way when I joined the Quidditch team and wanted to be as good as the seventh years," he told her. It was actually the first time he'd ever confessed this to anyone.

"I sneaked out at night to the Quidditch Pitch and tried to gain the same skills as them overnight. I eventually just realized that time will run its course and that's just how it's meant to. You need to take things slowly and learn more things well over time."

The muscles in his arm began to burn, and he fell back on the mattress, just for Hermione to sit up on her elbow, instead.

"And look at me now. I proudly proclaim myself the best Chaser at Hogwarts!"

She looked fascinated at his story, and he couldn't help the smug smile that turned at his lips.

He was, after all, James Potter. So, he continued to grin like a loon, and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm proud of you," she told him, her voice soft but clear. He looked at her eyes—the corners crinkled with lovely smiles of their own, though the turmoil could still be seen—and his chest hurt. It hurt with an ardent pain; enough for him to look away, unbearable as it may be.

His eyes briefly moved to a frame that hung on the wall, showing a family of three, before they flew back towards Hermione.

She swiftly carded her fingers through his hair and messed it, causing him to sputter in protest, trying to push her hands away.

"I was going to say that I'm proud of you, too - but you just _had_ to mess up my gorgeous black locks!"

She threw her head back and laughed, the sound sweet — like everything about her had started to seem lately. "There are some things that are just inevitable."

He tore his eyes away from her and swallowed. He highly wished that to not be true.

* * *

James wrapped his arm around Hermione's shoulders and led her back to the dorm, allowing her tired body to lean against his weight.

The moment they entered, he noticed everyone on their respective beds, waiting for their return in silence. When they all looked up, Hermione's eyes immediately flew towards Remus and her features contorted in cringe, mixed with obvious embarrassment at the whole event.

"Remus, I'm _so_ sorry."

Sirius was next to her in an instant, helping her to her bed and making sure she was comfortable, while James walked to his bed with an impassive face, his attention all towards Remus.

The werewolf looked incredulous. "Hermione, it's okay. You were drugged."

"Yeah. Moony's right," said Sirius, a frown etched on his face as he looked down at the twin. "I have to find whoever did it, though."

"Lily said that it was obviously a prank on both Hermione and Remus," Peter interjected, looking confused. "She said that they must've seen something in these two. Not to mention that it's Valentine's day and it was his birthday yesterday."

James felt the air lace with a creeping hostility, right the moment Sirius scoffed, and his head fell back with a groan. "Well, this is not fucking funny, is it?"

He turned towards Hermione, who looked more exhausted than ever. "You see this, sister? Have we ever pranked someone like this?"

Hermione shook her head. "I would've killed you before you even tried to," she muttered, closing her eyes. "Besides, you would never do anything like this." She laid down and pulled a blanket over her body. "I'm just so embarrassed . . . and tired."

Sirius frowned and he pressed the back of his hand against her forehead to check her temperature. "You should rest, Cub. We don't have classes, anyways."

"I did," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles. "I missed a very important . . . fight . . . Voldemort."

"What?" Peter squeaked, giving Sirius a questioning look.

His nose twitched and Sirius shrugged. "She must be hallucinating. Sleep now, Cub. I have a feeling you won't be resting much after you wake up." No response came from Hermione and he sighed heavily.

They fell into a comfortable silence, as James glanced at a small frame that had fallen on the floor. "What is that?" he asked, his finger pointed at the object

Sirius shuffled over to the frame and picked it up, walking towards James with a satisfied smile. He joined him on the bed and passed it to him. "We found a few pictures in my trunk."

The one in his hands was a picture from their second year, when they'd all decided to stay back at Hogwarts for Christmas. The five of them were all huddled together, wrapped in a large blanket as they tickled Hermione to get her to smile.

"I look as handsome as ever." James grinned confidently, and Sirius gave him a light punch on the arm.

"Of course, you do, mate! But your perfect looks are not what I want to talk about, right now."

James wiped the smile off his face and nodded, looking at his best friend carefully. "What is it?"

"I - _hm_, okay. I have no reason to badmouth your girlfriend, but she _has_ been acting a bit rudely towards my twin. Of course, it's Hermione's business and I wouldn't usually interfere," he stopped, and James was reminded of a very similar conversation with the other twin a few nights ago, "but . . . after today—"

"Lily didn't do anything," James interjected, immediately jumping to his girlfriend's defense. His brows knitted together, he gave Sirius a look that properly showed how baffled he was at the sudden accusation. "Padfoot, trust me. I've liked her for five years now and I think I know her well enough to be sure that she would never do something like this."

Sirius paused, relenting a bit. "Fine. If you think I'm not experienced enough in seeing my sister hurt and having a hunch on who did it. _But_," he kept their eyes locked and arched a brow, "Do you really know her, though? Hasn't she been acting differently from how you've always seen her?"

James straightened defensively and threw him a hard glare. "Fuck's sake. Of course, I do. I like her—"

"I'm not saying you don't like her," Sirius added quickly, putting his hands up to calm him down. "I'm just saying that you've noticed her for five years, not necessarily gotten to _know_ her. It's been a month of you two dating. How does it even feel?"

James swallowed, thinking back at all the time he had spent with Lily so far. He cherished each moment, though mingled together, they seemed too superficial. He still liked her, though. He was so happy—_fuck_, he was happier than a man on the moon.

"You don't know, Pads. Dating someone is a long process and it's going to feel a bit new to everyone. She makes me happy," he argued, convinced that there was nothing wrong in how things were going with Lily.

"Okay, just don't . . . change, you know?" Sirius mumbled defeatedly, dragging his hand across his face. "I don't want to fight. You dealt with my sister, even though she was probably unbearable under influence. Nor do I want to go through the process of losing a brother once again."

James shook his head and chuckled lowly. "I still don't understand why you and Hermione don't like Lily, but you won't lose me. I wouldn't do that to you. Can the Marauders really afford to lose their visual?"

Sirius gave him an indignant look. "They're not losing _me_ any time soon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter that I'd been planning to write for two months now, and I hope you truly enjoyed it. The behaviour caused by the Love Potion might feel a bit different in this story, but that's exactly how I wanted Hermione to act.
> 
> Anyways, feel free to let me know what you think. Thank you!


	40. Forest Secrets

**February, 1976.**

Lily sighed, looking down at her painted red nails with a frown. She hadn't imagined things would go the way they did.

After Severus had pointed out of how glaringly obvious their crush on each other was, she thought she could _help_ them by giving Black a little push.

All it did was ruin things and complicate them further. Her mind supplied her with several accusations of her drugging her former roommate, but she fervently refused to believe them. She hadn't _meant_ it in that way, so it was fine.

At least, she hoped so anyways.

She just didn't think that she would get so affected by her relationship with James. The boy had proven to be so gentle and loving, making her heart thud several times faster than it should. Still, her stomach couldn't help but churn at the obvious fact that this behaviour of his wasn't reserved for her only.

He was like that with Black, too. If not . . . _better_.

The first time she tried to bring it up to James, he laughed and told her of how Black was his best friend and that was just how they'd been behaving since their first year.

But she was his girlfriend now. They ought to act differently.

"Say, Lily," Alice called from her bed, and she was snapped out of her thoughts. "What's bothering you?"

Lily sent her friend a confused look. "Huh?"

The brown haired witch arched a brow at her, and she shuffled closer on her mattress. "You look worried," she began in her usual kind tone, one that had helped Lily get through many hardships with its presence. While Severus was her best friend, she still felt grateful for a girl friend like Alice, who always remained by her side.

"Well," Lily began with unease. "I've been thinking about Hermione being in the same dorm as James."

Alice's eyes moved towards the other mattress, empty of its owner as Marlene was still in the shower. "Did you talk to James about it? You're probably just overthinking."

Lily picked at the dried nail polish on the sides of her nails. "I don't know . . . it's not normal for a girl to live with three other guys, excluding her brother."

"She has very bad nightmares," Alice reminded her delicately, staring at the empty space where Black's bed used to be.

Marlene entered the dorm, her blonde hair still damp as she played with her wand to dry it. Lily groaned and she sent Alice a desperate look. "I guess. It's not like I want to _ruin_ things for him and his friends . . ."

The blonde jumped on her mattress and moved to cover her face with the blanket, not before letting out a loud scoff.

Lily bristled at her immature behaviour. Just then, Marlene resembled her older sister, who'd acted just as prickly, if not worse, after being told by Professor Dumbledore that she couldn't come to Hogwarts, as well.

In both cases, Lily believed that she didn't deserve the cold shoulder she got. Everything was new to her and she couldn't _help_ the way she felt.

However, she had learnt her lesson. She realized that it would be better to talk, rather than just act on something.

Yes, she'd do just that.

* * *

James felt sick to his stomach. He was disoriented, so fucking unsure on what to even _think_. The more his eyes moved, the more aware he became of how desperately they were to move away from _her_.

He gripped Lily's hand even tighter, causing her to look at him. "James?"

He swallowed, looked at her and smiled — or tried to, anyways. Ever since that conversation with the boys, his insecurities played constantly in his head and he could barely move at the thought of not _liking_ \- no, not knowing Lily.

He then blinked at Remus, who he realized with a biting fire under his skin that surely the werewolf knew everything about Hermione.

Possibly even the mountain of secrets that James was sure she was hiding from them.

He scowled, biting his tongue to stop himself from asking, 'How is that fair? Am I not your best friend, too?'

"Oi, why are you looking at Remus like you want to choke him to death?" Peter asked through a mouthful of chicken and - well, he couldn't quite tell what else.

Hermione eyed both boys distastefully, even though James hadn't even spoken with his mouth open!

He immediately thought of a logical complaint to throw her way, but her eyes flew back to him and she questioned, "Why are you not eating?"

"Not hungry," he mumbled, instead grabbing a napkin to delicately wipe Lily's lovely lips. Her cheeks flushed in red and he sat back with a satisfactory smile.

"Fine," Hermione bit out, going back to playing with the peas on her plate.

"Why are _you_ not eating?" he couldn't help but ask, not even as Lily slid closer to him and — _ah_, he could even say that she was almost on top of his lap and he should be happy, but - but - but—

"I'm not hungry either," she said surly, pushing her plate towards her twin instead, who happily took it with a wide grin and patted her head despite her complaints.

James stayed quiet, even as Remus set tea for her and placed it in her hands with a concerned frown.

He almost scoffed right then and there. They weren't even dating and yet-

-yet, they were acting like any other day, James finished in dismay. It was nothing new.

Lily nudged his foot and he glanced at her curiously, noticing her slightly narrowed eyes. He immediately wondered if he'd recently pulled any prank—no, he definitely hadn't—and arched a brow at her.

"I'm done eating. Do you want to come?" she asked, already standing up from the bench.

_Say yes._

"Of course, Lily-flower," he said with a cheeky smile, waiting for her small smile with an eye roll to come - but it never came.

He immediately set his lips in a straight line and tried very hard to focus his mind, to make sure he didn't do anything unacceptable in the eyes of Lily.

Her opinion mattered a lot to him. So, he gladly let her lead him to somewhere quiet, which ironically — for some reason, he found it ironic — ended up being the same classroom as yesterday. Yeah, _that_ one.

Lily closed the door behind her and as she turned, he pressed his lips softly to hers, welcoming her arms around his neck. He sat on the desk behind him and pressed against her slim body, welcoming any heat coming from her.

Her eyelashes fluttered against his skin and he slowly moved away from her, smiling at her dazed face.

His heart felt betrayed, his lips did not.

Lily wrapped her arms around his stomach and her face snuggled on his shoulder. "James . . ."

He patted her back gently, encouraging her to keep talking as he closed his eyes.

_Please, let the hole fill with her presence._

"What do you think of Hermione?"

Again. "She's my best friend," he said, like every other time he'd been asked this question by her, "and I respect her a lot, no matter how many times she messes around with my hair and—"

"James," she cut him off. "Why does she stay in your dorm?"

Ah, he could tell what she was thinking and really, he should have a smug smile on his face at the jealousy she must be feeling for _him_.

But instead, he was reminded of the many times Sirius took his time waking up and the few minutes that were filled with Hermione terrified mumbles in her sleep.

"She has very bad nightmares, and she can't deal with them without Sirius's presence near her. The twin bond gives her relief," he explained, his arms still around Lily.

His girlfriend seemed to exhale a very frustrated breath. "And what happens once she gets older? Because, Black is definitely not going to stop messing around with girls to babysit his sist—"

"I will—the Marauders will help her, always. You can't blame her for wanting to sleep in _peace_."

"And if - say you are away at night with me," she cleared her throat at that and continued, "and the other guys are away too — even _Remus_ — what will happen?"

His throat constricted at the mere thought of her being left alone. "I'll be there for her," he said, his voice hoarse. He lightly pushed her away to look at her and pleaded with his eyes for her to understand. "I can't just—"

Lily gave a short, bitter sounding laugh and arched a brow at her. "What happened, James Potter? What happened to all the times you confessed to spending the night with me because you love me so much?"

He gaped at her, speechless for a moment before he shook his head. "Lily," he enunciated clearly, "What are you trying to say?"

She bit her lip, her expression resembling a shattered glass, tears glittered in her eyes. "Can you please try to stay away from her?"

James moved away in an instant, his heart beating faster in surprise, anger or-

"What?" he blurted out in shock. Whatever joke, or prank this was, he didn't find it funny. What—

She held his arm, her grip switching from tighter and looser as she spoke. "I'm sorry — I just can't help the way I feel. You - you look at her so differently than you look at me, and yet — I feel like that should still be me, you know?"

She hesitated, looking at his expression carefully. His face now marred a frown, because this awfully sounded like the start of a breakup conversation, from what he had read in the few books Hermione had given her.

_And why are you thinking about her right now, of all the situations?_

"Surely, after all these years of loving me, you won't mind just doing me this one small favour," her voice hitched and he held her hand because he was her boyfriend and he should be comforting her, "Can you blame me? Wouldn't you tell me to stay away from a guy because—"

_But, he hadn't._

"I haven't," he interrupted her, his voice as steady as it could be with the myriad of thoughts in his head. "You know? I could have asked you to stay away from _Snape_, but I haven't."

Clearly, Lily hadn't thought about her childhood best friend until now, because her jaw dropped at the realization that James really hadn't mistreated him in any way, ever since they started dating.

Lily, on the other hand . . .

James pushed the thought away.

_No, bad._

"Still," she said in a defeated voice, "_please_, love." Her hand cupped his cheek and he leaned closer to allow a peck from her soft lips.

He will regret this — he didn't mean what he was about to say — surely, he could lie his way out of this —

"I won't break my friendship, ever. But, I can try to keep an appropriate distance from - from her."

That was the most he could do. And it said a lot about how much importance Hermione Black held in his life.

Too much for even the love of his life to take that away from him.

* * *

Hermione was in a sour mood. The moment she'd entered Professor Dumbledore's office, she'd known nothing was going to make her frown disappear.

It was hard being always right.

Granger snorted and oh, how badly Hermione wanted to enter her own mind to pull the older woman's hair.

How would it look, two similar looking women fighting each other?

_Hmm, I can hear you_, Granger warned.

Hermione almost smiled, but her thoughts flew back to her journey to the Pensieve, where she learned of how good of a student Tom Riddle was—_just like you, Hermione_, the Headmaster had said—and she scowled. Because he was anything but a good student. The Prefect — who even decided to offer him the badge, when he went on bullying and ordering his friends for years? — turned out to be responsible for a _murder_.

He killed someone in his _fifth_ year. At her age.

He was nothing like her. He was a sick, twist minded boy who freed whatever creature that ended up hurting several students and even murdering Moaning M—no, Myrtle Warren.

To think that Hagrid was blamed for it and Riddle received an award for his lies, it made her blood boil. Surely, Professor Dumbledore could've done more at the time, if he was so sure that the Slytherin had done everything.

Maybe then, Tom also wouldn't have ended up killing the remaining Riddle family and blaming his uncle for it.

At that moment, Hermione wished for nothing but to discuss this with someone other than the Headmaster. The old, graying wizard looked pitiful, regretful but that did nothing but frustrate her. She wanted to _do_ something, not wait weeks to hear about his crimes at his young age.

She could talk about it with Sirius, but . . . her shrewd twin would definitely ask how she even came to know about it, and - and he can't know about the lessons, Alastor Moody and—

_Ugh_, Alastor Moody. She talked to him through the Floo and proceeded to be yelled at for missing the lesson, despite her telling him that she was literally drugged.

He had the audacity to throw a '_Constant Vigilance!_' her way!

_He wasn't wrong, though. You do have to be more vigilant of your surroundings_, Granger spoke, self-nominating herself as Hermione's conscience.

If Granger was that angel on the shoulder of the main protagonist, where was her devil?

_Her_ devil? The Love Potion had also messed with her hormones. For a crazy minute as she forced herself to remember the boy in her dream, she thought she'd seen James.

She snorted out loud, not noticing the concerned stares she got from the boys.

"Look at her! She's going crazy. We should go somewhere," Sirius complained, evidently tired of lazing around the dorm for the rest of the evening.

"We should wait for James," said Remus in his teacher voice, reminding her a whole lot of Granger. Was she hiding Remus in her unconscious? She shuddered at the thought. Granger was just fine. At least, she didn't remind her of chocolate constantly.

"Padfoot, your sister just gave Moony a funny look," Peter teased, his head already ducked as he waited for her to throw a pillow at him. She didn't do that, but someone still definitely did and earned a flustered look from the rat Animagus.

"Ow, James!"

She looked at the entrance and saw James stand there, his jaw locked as he scratched it. "Sorry, Pete," he said and reached his bed in long strides, "What are we doing?"

"Let's go to the Forbidden Forest," Sirius immediately said like he'd planned it hours ago, jumping to his feet. He pulled his hair in a small ponytail and offered her a hand, though when she took it, he immediately let go of it and she fell on the floor, _hard_.

"Godric Gryffindor, help me not kill Sirius fucking Black," she shrieked, sitting up on her knees as she rubbed her bottom.

By the time she looked up, the pain of a brother, Remus and Peter were all by the entrance, and only one boy was left in the room with her.

Hermione glanced at him and curiously enough, he ignored her pitiful situation—didn't even offer her a hand!—and moved towards the door.

Her brows scrunched together, she tried to stand up and called, "James?"

He acted like he hadn't heard her and joined the rest of the boys, still clearly waiting for her to hurry up.

What an . . . _arse_!

_Harry would never do that_, Granger muttered in a disapproving tone. Her painful bottom told her to ignore the woman's strange words.

* * *

It wasn't the first they'd been to the Forbidden Forest. If that was the case, she'd have strictly _forbidden_ any of them from going. But well, she was _blackmailed_ to join them in second year and she admitted, thirsty for knowledge as she was, she couldn't help but feel curious at the time, to see if Hogwarts: A History had been accurate in describing it.

Words couldn't describe how peaceful her surroundings felt, despite the name that had been decided for the forest.

Also, she should have put on a coat, she stupidly realized. For someone who had just gone through so many consequences due to a mere cold, she was indeed stupid.

The breeze was hardly noticeable, she reassured herself and hid her trembling hands from the prying eyes of the boys.

"It was so weird seeing Hermione trying to kiss Remus yesterday," Peter said with a strained voice, looking like he'd throw up. She and Remus nodded along —really, how could anyone even think of . . . _her_ and _him_ that way?

He was like a _brother_.

"Ugh," Sirius whined like a puppy, "Don't remind me, please. Imagine if one of you two actually liked each other." He shuddered and Remus laughed, putting him in a headlock as a revenge for all the times her twin had done it to him.

James stopped dead in his tracks, and she glanced at him curiously. His head snapped towards Remus, who was still trying to fake-fight Sirius, and Hermione, who continued to watch him with wide eyes. What was going on in her best friend's mind?

She approached him with tentative steps — since when was she so careful around him? — and tugged him along, continuing their journey deeper in the mystery of the ancient trees that surrounded them.

The wind whistled, leaves rustled and James - well, he continued to stare ahead. She tugged at his arm once again, finding his robe surprisingly _warm_ and she slipped her hand inside the large front pocket on his robes.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, tone going for casual but coming off worried.

They both stopped, while the other boys continued their walk. Her best friend still wouldn't meet her eyes and she almost left him right then and there, but - _but_ she was complicated too and he'd never left. So, why should she?

And she was probably making a big deal out of his behaviour, really—

His warm fingers latched around her wrist and he brought it away from his pocket. His hand replaced where her own had been and he shook his head. "Nothing, Hermione," he cleared his throat and nodded ahead, "We shouldn't lose Pettigrew. Moony and Padfoot might kill him."

Granger snorted; Hermione blinked. She could still just barely register the loss of the heat, the silence in his smile, the avoidance in his tone.

"What's wrong?" she repeated, her voice firmer. She didn't touch him again - no, he didn't like it, maybe and it was _fine_. He had a girlfriend and Merlin, why was she mentally rambling about that when the gesture had been nothing but friendly?—

He shrugged. "I feel tired," his voice was weary, and she immediately nodded. She knew how that felt. "I don't know what to do, and . . ." he paused to look at her, "I can't do what's asked of me."

Boy, did she also know how _that _felt.

"You're definitely not talking about an essay right now," she mimicked what he'd said last night, "But does it help if I say that if there's anyone that can put their all into doing something, it's James Potter? Come on, Jamie. I thought you were more confident than that," she joked, his lips twitched, and her heart soared. "I believe in you. Give it time and you'll manage to do whatever it is just _fine_."

"Not with you around, I'm not," he said, looking like he hadn't meant to say it out loud at all.

She gave him a small, confused smile. "Hm?"

He shook his head, still in a daze or — _something_. "We should go. Shouldn't we?"

"Uh, yes. James?"

He had already started his big strides and she took her time to catch up as she heard him respond, "Yeah?"

_Did my hand bother you?_ "I still hate your snoring."

His head fell back and he finally laughed, the sound soothing the rustle of nature above her.

She began walking again, hurrying to catch up to the rest of the boys. They were right behind her and she could hear Sirius say, "Sod off!" at something either Peter or Remus had said.

Her twin sure was cranky, and she totally wasn't.

She heard Remus mention her little brother once again and her brow arched as an instant reaction. "You've been doing that a lot," she said, getting closer.

Remus turned around with a quizzical look. "Doing what?"

She bit down a smile and answered, "Asking about my little brother."

"Whatever."

She finally grinned and latched her hand on his arm to stop him. "Ooh — is that Remus talking or cranky _Moony_?"

"Whaa—"

A twig snapped and their heads immediately snapped ahead. Two shadowed creatures greeted their sight and Remus moved to wrap his arm around her, but James had already dragged her closer to him by her wrist.

Before she realized, her mind had registered the human torso and the horse body, immediately screaming at her with one answer: Centaurs.

The one with lighter hair than the other took a step closer and they all scrambled away, though Granger forced her to remain rooted to the spot.

Constant vigilance—constant vigilance—constant vigilance—

_Don't be scared_, Granger told her.

"You're not welcome here."

She swallowed, looking back at the boys with wide eyes as she spoke up in a strained voice. "We're truly sorry. We didn't know we'd reached your colony," she apologized profusely, bowing her head in hopes they'd trust her words.

The Centaur's eyes shifted towards James, before he glanced at her again. "I am aware."

His companion stepped up and she could immediately tell who should be feared the most between the two. "A lesson needs to be taught, Firenze!"

_Firenze_ shook his head. "The Fates do not approve of her death, Ronan."

Ronan immediately backed away. "What must we do?"

"Wait for the humans to tell her what needs to be," he answered as though she wasn't right there and turned around. "I advise you to leave right now." The Centaurs began to walk away stiffly, and Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"They were talking about Hermione, were they not?" Peter asked in a worried voice, his eyes darting over to each one of them.

"Nah, you've heard from Hermione of how irrational Divination is. They were just babbling," he scoffed with a smile that soon faltered, and he laid his arm around her shoulders. "Let's just go. This was a bad idea."

Hermione nodded mutely.

'_Wait for the humans to tell her what needs to be._'


	41. Shooting Star

**February, 1976.**

"What are you doing?" Moody snapped, entering the usual room with a frown like always.

"I'm practicing?" Hermione rolled her eyes, no more afraid of the man like she had been during the initial meetings. Alastor Moody had a soft side, she knew it - no matter how much he tried to hide it with a facade.

"Well, show me then," he bit out, motioning his hands for her to continue. She gave him a slow look before she conceded, moving towards the crates provided as obstacles at a fast speed.

Thankful for having proper attire, she rolled across a curved mat and looked up ahead. A rope was tied to the highest ring of the ceiling, hanging a few feet above the ground. Gaining momentum, she jumped on the rope as her hands held it in a tight grip. She was sure to get splinters but continued to move up with her legs wrapped around the rope, allowing her to use both her triceps and quadriceps to do the work.

Her muscles burned with exhaustion and she panted heavy breaths, her eyes still fixed on her final goal. She reached the last few inches and secured her weight on her left hand as she grabbed the wand that Moody had left to hang on top.

Her hand slightly slipped down and she swallowed a panicked scream, instead intent on making use of her wand like Moody had taught her. She looked down at the small mat and transfigured it into a much larger, softer mattress, allowing her to fall on it with ease.

Still recovering from the jump, she didn't notice Moody's movements until his feet approached the mattress, and he vanished it with a flick of his wrist. Her body fell to the floor with a soft thud and she resisted a glare.

"Constant vigilance!" he barked, aiming his wand at her.

Now on her feet, she shot him an _Incarcerous_ to keep him busy, and she moved away with her eyes still fixed on him. Sweat ticked down her forehead and before he could recover from the ropes that he'd just avoided, she shot him the same spell yet again.

Just like she'd planned, he was getting tired of avoiding meaningless — according to him — spells, and she took the chance to call out, "Expelliarmus!"

His wand flew into her hand for the second time in training with him, and she sent him a winning smile. She approached him silently, offering him a hand that he ignored as he stood up.

"Making use of your wand when you have it, I'll give you that, lass," he grunted, his voice gruff.

She surveyed him with pursed lips when he took back his wand and continued to move away from her. Still, she knew he wouldn't leave it at that, and sure enough, he turned abruptly to attack her. She didn't even realize she was swinging her foot until his wand fell from his hands with a _clank_.

He gave her a scrutinizing stare and continued to look at her even as he picked up his wand. "You've been exercising?"

She nodded. "Every day, Sir."

"Call me Moody," he said with a gruff voice. "You're very quick now." She wasn't sure if he meant it as a compliment, what with the way he was frowning at her and the words seemed to have been pulled from his throat by a hippogriff's claws. Still, she took it as praise either way.

"And Albus has told me that if you're almost done with the training, you can have a break next Saturday," he looked away with his lips thinned, "I'll allow that to happen, I suppose."

"No."

His head whirled around, and he cocked a brow, his nostrils flaring slightly at the disagreement. "What did you say?"

She gave him an apologetic look, twirling her wand around her fingers as she called for the proper words to come out. "Like you said, I'm almost done with my training, so why should I slow it down for a Hogsmeade date? We'll still meet and get more things done with."

"You're very determined," he noted, watching as she moved to grab her water bottle.

"Yes, well," she started after a gulp, relief washed down her parched throat, "that's what happens when your father is killed by his wife."

"And Voldemort."

She turned around, her brows knitted together. "What?"

He spotted her surprise and narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't forget who your true enemy is. Albus has told me that you are the one with the power to defeat him, so don't you dare forget that."

Her lips folded into a tight line, and memories of the cold-hearted man flashed in her mind, his wand pointed at her father as a green light emerged.

"I will never be able to forget."

* * *

Her feet moved against the tall grass, droplets of water managing to make their way in through her shoes. Hermione almost smiled then; there was something strangely reassuring about the touch of nature.

Not many could feel the sense of touch, not when they were under the Cruciatus, no.

With a weary sigh, she continued her walk as her muscles itched and burned with the need to stop, freeze for a couple of years and replenish with the much needed rest.

But the thing was that the battle had just begun.

Moody's mention of Voldemort had brought back some unwelcome memories, haunting her for the entirety of her lessons that day. If the boys noticed anything amiss, they didn't say anything. She was grateful for that, as at the moment, the quiet was something that comforted her more than any fickle words.

She was by the Quidditch practice spot then, staring at the shadowed figure with half the mind to just leave right there and then, to avoid any questions. Yet, she had reached him in big strides—still not so big compared to others—and tugged on his arm.

"Not the greatest time to be practicing, don't you think?"

James tensed under her touch, visibly relaxing once his gaze fixed on her. The corners of his eyes wrinkled at his half-smile and he shrugged. "Not the greatest time to be taking a walk, either," he said and bopped her nose, pausing for a second before he drew back his hand.

"_Ha, ha_," she drawled, fighting the quirk of her lips that always happened when he was around. "Great weather, isn't it?"

He hummed, looking up at the night sky with a strange turn at his lips. "I feel rather refreshed," he murmured, his Adam's apple bobbing as he looked back at her.

A look of curiosity spread across her face. "Did something happen?"

He grinned then, wide and yet - so, so tempting for _something_. "I'll only tell you if you lay down on the grass with me."

She thought that wasn't that bad of a deal, and she began to dig her hand in the pocket of his jeans, only for him to jerk away, hands on her shoulders as he gently held her back. "Blimey! That was not an invitation to get into my p—"

She sent him a fierce glare that failed to erase his wide grin. "You can't say things like that when you have a girlfriend, James."

He immediately quieted down, grabbing her hand and allowing her to feel his empty pockets. Her chest rose at the hitch of her breath, and she blinked — that was a rather unusual reaction to say the least. Still, she put off her being breathless to - well, she had training just a few hours ago!

"What were you doing, anyways?" he asked, his voice low.

"Huh?" She cleared her throat and tried valiantly to use her brain—she was sure she had one. "Ah - I thought you might have a handkerchief that I could transfigure into a blanket. To lay down on it . . . you know—"

He continued to stare at her and she rambled, because that was the only damn thing that she could do at the moment. "We don't want to get our clothes wet and well, Amos always kept one with him for the future. I mean, not that we were doing anything inappropriate that would get things wet and—"

"Hermione."

"—I don't know why I'm telling you all this. Handkerchiefs have been proven useful for a number of reasons."

She took a deep, shuddering breath, awfully aware of his closeness as he leaned in, barely a few inches away from her face. The moonlight was bright enough to douse his cheekbones in silver, showing off the smooth and soft skin that was of her best friend's.

"I hope wet clothes don't bother you so much," and then he was pulling her to the ground, her legs falling effortlessly against the cold touch of grass as she laid down.

Her back hit the surface and from the sound, James was right beside her, him exhaling a breath heavily.

Like - like he had just done the unimaginable, or even done a task that required great effort.

She scoffed. She wasn't aware that she was so much work to deal with, and her stomach painfully turned at the thought. But she pressed her lips into a straight line and her head turned, her sight falling on the boy.

Untidy curls sat on his head and yet, his face looked sculpted with careful strands placed against his forehead.

A lopsided smile bloomed on his lips. "I think the stars will have to beg for your attention today."

Hermione tore her eyes away from him, crossing her arms as she looked up. "And why is that?"

"I am, after all, more gorgeous than they will ever be," he said arrogantly, and she was forced to hold back a snort.

"Uh, huh. Why must I look at a generic sky, when I have the chance to stare at James Potter, instead?" she egged him on, seeing him cross his arms behind his head in her peripheral vision.

Surprisingly, a reply never came. Which was ridiculous as James would never want to miss the opportunity to talk about himself for as long as he could. The boy loved himself and she found that she couldn't blame him.

With that personality and body . . .

_Wha—don't say that_. She could almost picture Granger's wrinkles showing further as the woman grimaced at her. _Ask him about what he was doing here._

_Huh_ \- oh, she was getting very distracted. This was no good.

"What were you doing here?"

He remained quiet for seven exact seconds.

"Thought it would be the perfect place to visit after a breakup."

She snorted loudly. "A what?"

"A breakup."

"Whose breakup?"

"Mine—"

Her head turned instantly, and she arched a brow at him. "Breakup? You and Lily? I don't think so," she said disbelievingly.

He turned his whole body towards her, his own brow cocked on his face as he asked, "And why is that?"

"Well," she started as a matter-of-factly, "this is you and Lily we're talking about. You would rather drop _Quidditch_ than let her break up with you."

"Is that what you think of me?"

He sounded so weary and she hesitated. "Is it not you?" she stammered, because _Godric_, was the whole world turning over or something? "Did she really—"

He cut her off with a strange glint in his eyes that couldn't even be hidden by the dark of the sky. "Actually, it was me," he began, his lips shifted into a grim line. "I gave her a false promise, when I shouldn't have thought of it in the first place."

He blinked, slow and hazy. "I think — no, I am _sure_ it wasn't going to work out, Hermione. There are some things that just click and some that don't. To me, the people in my life are my entire world and as it turns out, I didn't actually like her enough to turn the whole world upside down for her."

_No, no, no, no, no—_

_Shut up, Granger_, she whispered in her mind. Hermione couldn't fight the wonder that had her gape at him openly.

A few seconds passed and she sat up, her hands placed on his chest as she looked down at him with worried eyes. "Are you okay? Merlin, you should've told us! When did this happen? Was it this morning? Because I'm sorry that I wasn't there to—"

"Shut up, princess. I'm fine. It happened last night, and I'm more surprised that you thought I'd drop Quidditch over a crush." His hands moved to scratch the back of his head, and he peered at her, horrified. "I wasn't that bad, was I?"

She stayed quiet. She couldn't quite yet process the fact that James Potter had broken up with Lily Evans, the love of his life — or well, _crush?_ — for the past five years.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she whispered, a strong urge to ask him again - just to watch his facade crumble to the ground and his jaw clench tightly.

"I don't know who I am anymore." His voice broke right then, and her arms immediately moved around him. His heartbeat boomed close to her ears as she rested her head on his chest, and she closed her eyes. There was something reassuring about the way she could feel his breaths as he took them.

"You are James Potter," she mumbled against his robes, and she could feel her heart race at the contact. "You are the best friend of three other boys, who you love as true _brothers_. You are sure to become the captain of the Quidditch team, and you are more brilliant in DADA than you give yourself credit for."

She paused, halfway wondering if he could even hear her in this position, but it was too late to back out now and his hands were still holding onto her arms like a lifeline, so she continued.

"Professor McGonagall will deny it, but you've made her smile many more times than she wishes to admit. Your parents consider you the light of their lives, because that's what you _are_. You shine wherever you go and despite your immature acts, people find a way to develop a soft corner for you."

"And what am I to you?" His grip tightened, not painful but similar in a way one's heart would, intoxicated with the presence of another.

"You are my best friend."

James chuckled lowly and shook his head. He seemed to be fighting with himself and eventually, the unfamiliarity in his eyes settled down.

Hermione laid back down on the grass, the hair on the back of her neck now used to the cold sensation. She looked up just in time for a shooting star to appear, and she smiled wryly.

Her finger pointed right at the beautiful piece of nature, she said, "Stop staring at me like an idiot and make a wish!"

In her peripheral vision, she could see his nose shoot up as the sky caught his attention, and she closed her eyes instantly, just in time to think of a wish.

"What did you wish for?"

She rolled her eyes. "If I told you, the chances of it happening would decrease. So, you'll just have to wait."

"You're so annoying," he muttered, sitting up with his plump lips puckered in a pout.

"And you just wasted my time." She stood up, intent on leaving him behind, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her against his chest, looking down at her with a frown.

"Don't leave me, please."

His breath fanned across her face due to their proximity, and she met his wide, hopeful hazel eyes. It was silent, not a word uttered between them as they stood there, staring.

Well, if he were to walk slower for her—

Her heart stuttered and she shot him a hesitant look, which he only seemed to find funny because he started chuckling.

He looked far too smug for her liking and she whacked him on the chest, despite the grin that curled her lips at the laughter that rang out over the Quidditch pitch.

Her body unconsciously shivered against the cold and he, without warning, opened the front of his robes and buried her frame inside them. Swept into a bear-hug by him, she could hear him whisper, "I missed you."

"As far as I know, I didn't go anywhere." Hermione found her arms wrapped as tightly around him as his own arms were around her. She buried her face in the front of his shirt with a deep, shuddering breath.

His breath caught in his throat, he tensed against her touch. "This is why I—" he paused and shook his head. "I need that to never change," he murmured at last, his chin rested on the top of her head.

A volatile mix of flutters swirled in her belly, as time ticked by slowly and her eyes began to flutter shut. She could feel him lean back as he said, "Let's get you back to bed, okay?"

Hermione wasn't sure how she made her way back to the dorm, but she snuggled further in her blankets, and even no nightmares jolted her awake for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Please, stay safe and take care of yourself.


	42. Is It Too Late?

**February, 1976.**

Images flashed in her mind, memories became the crates of her brain - halting her, slowing her down.

_1, 2, 3 . . ._

Hermione thought of the brief smile she would receive if her father was still here. She imagined his hands locked behind his back; his pace slow but confident as he carefully looked at her movements. He might even encourage her to do better by provoking her, but she would still receive that tiny fraction of a lift on his lips.

Her stride increased.

_1, 2, 3 . . ._

It was getting harder and harder to picture him in her head. Usually, Granger would help her during the workouts, supplying multiple images of her father - when he hadn't seemed to be under the influence of the Potion.

Today, however, Granger was nowhere to be heard or felt in her mind. So, she pushed on by herself. The frigid air hit her burning body with relief and pain at the same time. But her motivation kept her going.

She didn't have to dig hard to find it. Her father had sacrificed his life for her. There was no way she could disappoint him, or even her other loved ones that could be in danger at any time.

She thought of the dream she had a few days ago. It was Granger's memory; the woman had clarified it herself. Yet, Hermione couldn't quite let go of the other universe's image. Had it all turned so bad? Students laid dead on the ground, Death Eaters looking for other victims to torture with their hatred.

It was abhorrent.

She understood the power she had in her hands. It may have been given thoughtlessly at her birth, but she had to make sure that no one came to regret that decision. She had a weight on her shoulders, and it wouldn't decrease unless she put herself to work.

To defeat Voldemort, every single Death Eater, and of course . . . her own mother.

_1, 2, 3 . . ._

* * *

Hermione dragged her feet back to her mattress, heaving a sigh as she sat down. She pulled her hair out of the bun and frowned. Her fingers were stuck in between her curls, and she knew she was in for even more pain, inflicted by her own hair.

James snorted loudly, somewhere from his bed, but she paid him no mind. It seemed that the boy had other things to worry about, anyways. Like the undying curiosity of his mates as they continued to ask him of how he even thought to break up with Lily.

Hermione waved her wand around her head, hoping that whatever beauty spell Marlene had supplied her with could work. She watched as her brother waved his hands excitedly, looking completely _distraught_ over the fact that he wasn't there to witness the Prefect being dumped.

"Calm down a little, Padfoot." Remus laughed softly, and Hermione noticed with surprise that the boy didn't look all that shocked at the news delivered by James. Rather, he had a small smile playing at his lips and his mind seemed to be wandering somewhere else.

_Hm_. Hermione needed to find out what was going on in his head. It had been too long since they had a heart-to-heart. _Right, Granger?_

The woman remained quiet, and Hermione's heart thudded in her ears as an unnerving anxiety seeped through her mind. Could it be that the woman was no longer in her unconscious?

But what of all the secrets of Voldemort that she still needed to know? What of the way to defeat the monster—

_I'm here_, Granger bit out. _Can't you handle not being babysat for a moment?_

Hermione scowled. The woman had no reason to act this way, and had she been anywhere other than in her mind, she would've had a better chance to talk it out with her.

_Maybe, if you could just trust me and tell me how the hell you killed Riddle, I wouldn't—_

"Hermione, aren't you hungry?"

Right.

She sent her best friend a strained smile. "I am, Peter. Is everyone else ready to go?"

"Yep!"

* * *

James could feel the stare of every single student burn a home at the back of his head. He idly played with his food, discomforted by the befuddlement shown by everyone. Sure, the boys were happy and Hermione - well, she was glad to see him doing okay, he supposed.

Now, the other girls in his year thought differently. He wasn't sure why he'd never noticed it before, but Lily seemed to be very good at playing the victim.

He shook his head. He shouldn't disrespect her just because she was no longer his girlfriend. But — but he couldn't _help_ it.

Even as Padfoot proceeded to discuss new ways to annoy Slughorn, his mind trailed off to what had occurred just a day prior.

He'd thought that Lily would be okay. Why wouldn't she? It wasn't as though _she_ had liked him for five years straight. If anything, _he_ should be the one distraught over his decision.

But that was the thing. He didn't regret it, at all. Sure, he'd reflected upon it continuously last night, but the moment Hermione had walked towards him . . . it'd felt as though all doubts had shattered like glass. She'd filled him with an immense amount of relief and hope.

Hope for what? He wasn't sure, but he enjoyed it regardless. Perhaps, more than he should. It felt strange to say the least. Not a day of being - well, _freed_ from his fixture of five years, and his eyes continued to be trained on her.

_Hermione._

He swallowed thickly. There was something seriously wrong with him. In no way should his chest tighten this badly at the sight of her. He certainly wasn't angry or comparing the mess of her hair to his own.

So, why did it hurt to look at her?

Remus nudged his foot and nodded at him. "You just got your food stolen from under your nose, mate." He grinned wolfishly at Peter, who suspiciously swallowed down a large bite and looked anywhere but at James.

Hermione chuckled, finger pointed at his plate. "Pay better attention to your dessert, or you'll get that stolen, too!"

"You're too slow at realizing things, mate," Sirius said in a wise tone, enjoying the continuous shake of his head. Did he think he looked like Dumbledore?

"Yeah. _Too slow_," Remus said quietly. The werewolf sent him a meaningful look, but James couldn't quite tell what the exact meaning of it even was.

James frowned deeply. "It's just treacle tarts."

Sirius and Peter stopped gorging down food, while Remus blandly stared at him.

"It's about Lily, isn't it?"

James shifted his attention towards Hermione, who seemed to be looking at another person, instead. "You're still upset . . ."

"I'm not," he denied quickly. His stomach churned as he hurried to make sure she wouldn't think that. "I just have other things on my mind. Y'know, figuring out how things go when I'm not running around someone—"

"I told you, last night," Hermione interrupted, her eyes were hesitant as she scanned his face. "There's more to James Potter than his past need to marry a certain redhead."

He blinked slowly. Her eyes held _so many_ stars that swam in a sweet, warm shade of caramel, making him believe that there could be nothing sweeter than her.

_Everything_ about her.

"Uh." Sirius absentmindedly scratched his chin, looking at the two with narrowed eyes. "I think that's enough staring for a whole week. What's up with you two?"

Hermione turned her face towards her twin, her mind surely set to chastise the boy for as long as she could. The sound of her voice drowned in his ears, the sight of her lips making him freeze for just a beat.

They were . . . _plump_. Pink and soft in a way that would surely make him enjoy digging his teeth in—

"That's enough staring," Remus said dryly.

Ah. He'd forgotten about Remus. The werewolf didn't look upset as he said that, but there was still that look, the one he had yet to figure out.

Why did James have so many things to figure out, all the sudden?

"James," the werewolf began, glancing at Hermione briefly. "Why don't we have a chat in private, later?"

He opened his mouth to answer. Well, there was no reason why he wouldn't be fine with that. But just then, Hermione's neck snapped back, and she shook her head. "No! Mr. Moony, a long talk is overdue with _me_."

Remus looked at him with wide eyes, before he addressed the girl by his side, "I guess."

James found that he was in no mood to eat treacle tarts.

* * *

"Sit here," Hermione ordered, patting down the spot near her.

Remus arched a brow at her, sitting down in no time. "Well, this _is_ my bed."

"Yes, yes." She waved her hand vaguely and continued, "Hmm — why are we here, again?"

Remus scrunched his nose at her as he thought of an answer. "I remember you mentioning a talk that's overdue?"

"Oh, I was just curious about something."

He chuckled. "Nothing new here."

With a roll of her eyes, she said, "I just noticed how you didn't really look surprised when you found out about James's breakup."

Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, he averted his eyes. "Do I _have_ to answer this?"

"I may not have heightened werewolf senses, Remus," she said as she narrowed her eyes at him, "but I can still tell when you're lying. So, thread carefully."

"Wasn't this supposed to be a _comforting_ heart-to-heart? You're evil," he muttered under his breath. He crossed his legs and peered at her carefully. His eyes slowly brightened, and he said, "I'll tell you something, only if you also feed my curiosity."

Hermione pondered over it for a few seconds, and she shrugged. "Fine but start talking!"

"Well . . . in all honesty, I just didn't believe it was going to last."

Those words - they seemed quite like what James had said last night. Was she the only one who had failed to see the end to their relationship? Granted she'd been busy, but this was her best friend they were talking about.

Was there a chance that she didn't know what was good for James?

The thought didn't sit well with her.

"Why?" The question slipped from her mouth in an instant and he paused, his brow quirking slightly.

"I guess you didn't really pay much attention to their relationship—_I wonder why_. Anyways, as much as I admire Lily for her academic excellence, I could see that she was merely infatuated with Prongs."

Her brows furrowed. "So - just physical attraction?" She shook her head, biting down her lower lip, deep in thought. "That's quite a shallow reason to date someone. James has so much more to him than his looks."

He snorted, sending her a funny look. "I know, Cub, but when you think about it, wasn't that also why James started liking Lily?"

"Yes," she replied with a loud scoff, "but he slowly started liking a lot more than just her fiery hair and emerald eyes."

"And Lily probably started liking James's kind gestures, but it stops at that for her. There was no real attachment, so it's obvious that it ended so quickly." He frowned deeply. "I just wish he could figure it out already . . ."

"Figure out what?" She tilted her head, blinking curiously at him.

"Err - that Quidditch is what he should focus on, at the moment. Anyways, where do you go every morning?"

Well. That sure was a quick way to throw everything the other way around, but she kept her face impassive. "I like to exercise."

His face split into a wry grin. "And I like mint chocolate. Try again."

She bit her lips, holding in a laugh. "Don't let Sirius hear you insult his favourite flavour."

He continued to stare at her, and she sighed heavily, knowing well that there was no escaping from him.

"Fine. I _may_ have gotten a poor mark in DADA's practical exam, so I want to be much stronger. A fit body for a fit mind. Am I not perfect?"

It wasn't a lie, so she thought she'd be fine, and since he looked satisfied with the answer, they settled back into a comfortable silence.

Hermione stretched her legs on the bed, her knees continuing with their incessant burning. With Granger being . . . _absent_, her attempts to make Wolfsbane had miserably failed, and it was too late to even find any ingredients for this month.

She was a horrible friend. She should've remembered, pushed Granger to tell her everything and-

-it was useless now.

_I will help you prepare for next month_, Granger whispered, a loud sigh ringing in her head. _I'm sorry for causing this to happen._

_It's okay_, Hermione reassured the woman, though her biting curiosity couldn't help but make her wonder what had bothered Granger so much.

_Haven't you heard that curiosity kills the cat?_

Good thing she was a dog, then.

"I like Regulus," blurted out Remus, his face in flames as he stared at her.

Her jaw fell slack. "_Ah._"

He scratched the back of his neck. "Yes."

She shook her head, thoughts blurry as she tried to make sense of two voices coming at the same time. Granger seemed to be talking about _mates_ and Remus began with his own mumbling mess.

Hermione had enough. "Hold on!"

It seemed to work. A pin drop silence followed, as her best friend looked at her with wide eyes, his hands trembling because of what - _fear?_

"Merlin, Remus," she exclaimed, wrapping her hands around his and pulling him closer to her. "You really thought I'd be mad or something?"

He peered at her slowly, more hesitant than she'd ever seen him. It rivalled the look he'd worn when she'd visited him at the Hospital Wing for the first time.

Her eyes softened greatly, and she smiled. "So that's why you've been constantly asking about Reggie, huh?" she teased, only for him to growl in frustration.

"Hermione," he muttered with a shake of his head. "I know this is your little brother we're talking about, but . . . he's _perfect_."

The corners of her lips twitched, and she urged him to continue. "And how did you find that out? You only got a few days to hang out with him."

His cheeks sported a matching set of bright, pink patches and he looked away. "When we were planning for your birthday party, we talked about academics in his year, and he told me more about your — his childhood."

He smiled widely, his hands out of her grasp as he moved his bangs away from his eyes. "I saw him then, as someone more than just my best mates' younger brother. He's Regulus Black and I—Hermione, I want to do nothing more than spend time with him again."

She cupped his face in her hands and looked at him properly, feeling prouder than even a mother could feel at her kid's first steps. "I'm so glad you've found someone."

He hesitated, his eyes dropping slightly. "But that doesn't mean I'm still not a _monster_. There is no reason why he would like me—"

"Don't," she cut him off with a fierce glare. "You're not a monster, and there is no way he could leave you for that. I've seen the real him, and without any influence, he can be just as loyal as any other Gryffindors. And trust me, if you enjoyed your time with Reg, it means that he enjoyed it as well. The spoiled brat wouldn't let only one person have _all the fun._"

He cringed. "That last line sounded very—"

"What?"

"Err — nothing. My mind might be playing filthy tricks on me—"

"Remus Lupin!" she gasped, pushing his shoulders lightly. "Don't forget he's still my _brother_. I don't hear about . . . _that_ stuff, please."

He chuckled, before he pulled her in a tight embrace. His head rested on her shoulders and he let out a shaky breath. "You're the best."

"And so are you."

Someone cleared their throat at the doorway, and she pulled away from Remus, staring at the boy with curious eyes.

James averted his gaze away from both of them, his hands clenched on the sides. "Right. I'll just - I'll leave. Sorry."

The boy swirled around, but Remus's voice seemed to stop him. "Wait, Prongs. I need to tell you—"

"No, it can wait, Moony." He huffed a short laugh, his back still turned towards them. "Besides, I have . . . _Charms_ homework to do."

"Oh, I can help you with it," she offered excitedly, already on her feet in a beat of a second. That seemed to surprise James, who turned around to stare at her with wide eyes, even as she locked her arm with his. "Besides, I have to meet Snape for Potions, too."

Not giving him a chance to refuse, she waved her best friend goodbye and urged James to move it. "Like every time, I hope you're ready to be taught by a really harsh tutor . . ."

James listened on quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy to see how much people loved the last chapter. Thank you for the lovely comments, and stay safe!


	43. Chosen One

**February, 1976.**

"So," Hermione began, eyeing the boy in front of her with an undying curiosity. Something felt off about him; ah - yes, his volume. He was _so_ quiet, it unnerved her. "How are you feeling?"

After an hour of Charms, homework and all, she doubted he'd be feeling anything but utterly tired, so she was shocked when he said, "Not too bad."

He wore a smile, but Hermione wasn't stupid. It was stretched too thin, to the point he could risk having a breakdown right then and there.

"Your mind is a mess right now, isn't it?" she asked, her brows knitted together in concern.

She felt so bad for him.

He avoided her eyes, so she tried again with a softer voice. "What's going on in there, James?"

He bit his lower lip, turning it redder to the point that she couldn't stop staring at it until he spoke up.

"What did you and Remus talk about?" he questioned, his voice raspy and low. He swallowed, rubbing the back of his head as his hazel eyes bore into hers.

Her heart thudded loudly at his gaze, her palms finding themselves unusually sweaty. This was no good.

"I can't tell you," she confessed, still unable to break their eye contact. "He will tell you when he's ready."

"_Ah_," he exhaled, his shoulders sagged, and she frowned.

"What are you thinking about?"

He cocked a brow at her and pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. "Professor McGonagall," he said with a cheeky grin.

Her mouth hung open. "James! She might just be what you need."

"What do you mean?" he spluttered, sitting up in a mix of alarm and disgust.

"I mean that maybe she will convince you to focus on your studies instead than girls." She then sighed heavily. "James, no girl is better than a perfect set of books!"

His gaze instantly moved away from her. "Yes, there is."

"Well, she might just be your imagination," she offered with a small smile.

He looked so shy then. _Cute._

She shook her head. This was no time to think of how pure and innocent her best friend looked, despite the _very_ good feeling she got right then, in her chest.

But his gaze flew back on her and he pushed his chair closer to her. Their knees touched, and she found herself breathless at their mere vicinity.

"Why? Do you know what's going on in my mind?"

"I think it would be best for both of us to not know what goes in the other's mind," she said wryly, briefly wondering how he would react to Granger's random comments throughout the day.

She tried not to think about James suffering from the same nightmares, incessant images of blood and death.

His lips set into a straight line, and his gaze remained unwavering. He opened his mouth, but snapped it shut as his eyes moved behind her head.

"Snape," he mumbled defeatedly, carding his fingers through his black hair. A strand fell on his forehead and she resisted the urge to push it back for him.

_Hold on_, she thought. _Why am I even hesitating?_

Granger cleared her throat. _You're just . . . being platonic. Are you not?_

"Platonic," she whispered softly, narrowing her gaze down at her hands.

"Hmm?" James smiled gently, his glasses askew again and his head tilted at her curiously.

She shook her head, instead noticing the Slytherin who had joined his regular seat at their table. He was quiet as he set down his bag, not sparing James a glance. Instead, his brows were set into a firm line and he stared at her.

She sighed. "James, you should leave."

"Aw, man. I thought I could watch you struggle in a class for once—"

"Black, can we get started?" Snape cut him off, sending her a quick glare.

She threw her best friend an apologetic glance, who proceeded to gather his stuff with a petulant pout, and it remained fixed on his face even as he waved and walked away.

Hermione turned back to look at Snape. Her lips lifted in a hopeful, little smile and his own twitched, though he quickly gave her a scowl, instead.

"You were wrong."

Her wand felt loose in her hands and she blinked. "I was?"

He narrowed his dark eyes at her. "You told me not to worry about Lily getting hurt."

She exhaled a patient breath. So, _that_ was why he forced a frown on his face. Lily was obviously still higher on his list of friends, and rightfully so. Still, she didn't hesitate to defend her own best friend.

"He didn't hurt her, Snape. They just weren't meant to be, and he didn't lead her on. Instead, he broke it off with her as soon as he realized that."

"While I hate to admit it, you are right," he said eventually, his voice so low that she was barely able to catch it. She smiled, ready to ask if maybe he thought _he_ was the one perfect for Lily, when she felt a familiar kick at her mind.

She smirked slowly, stretching out her fingers against the edge of the table with a relaxed posture. She had been keeping her Occlumency walls up for so long, that one could say they were permanently etched into her mind.

He didn't get to see anything at all, and she was quite satisfied with herself. Through her meetings with the Headmaster, training with Moody and lessons with Snape, she could finally see the sweet fruit of patience and practice.

Months ago, she wouldn't have dreamed of being able to do half of the things that she could do now. It brought an immense sense of pleasure, her mind printing the pleased face of her father.

She will make him proud.

"That was perfect, I must say," he told her, his face impassive as he hurried to grab his backpack. "I won't tell you this again, but good job on your progress, Black."

"Hermione."

His dark gaze snapped towards her, his backpack now slung loosely on his shoulders. "What?"

"Don't you think that it's about time you call me Hermione?" she insisted. She got on her feet, wasted no time in gathering her belongings and sent him a brief smile.

She was sure she looked quite badass. Being the first one to leave.

_That's so silly_, Granger commented, but a laugh was still heard from her.

"Call me Severus then," he said bluntly, his strides still long enough to cross the distance between them.

They exited the library alongside each other. The day couldn't get any better.

* * *

Hermione had jinxed it, hadn't she?

_I think you might have_, Granger muttered, sympathetic.

Unable to contain her flabbergasted look at the Headmaster, she cleared her throat and tried to make sense of what she'd been told.

"Do you know where he went, after you rejected his application for the DADA job?"

He shook his head, his blue orbs focused on the candle lit beside his quill. "I had informants who told me about his hunt for a certain wealthy woman but that was the last thing I ever heard of him — until his recent attacks."

At that, she perked up. "A woman? Do you have a name or—"

He fixed his half-moon glasses and shook his head. "Other than the fact that it was regarding a cup, there's not much that was revealed."

She settled back into her seat, thinking back to the recurring dream she had regarding a certain cup. Sure, Malfoy had said that Voldemort had yet to assign them a task of such sort — taking care of an artifact or something.

But he _had_ been disappearing for long periods of time.

She thought of the first nightmare she had. There was a woman, she could clearly tell. Not to mention that it was the first time the cup had appeared in her mind.

"The woman — could she be . . ."

"Hermione, is there anything you want to tell me about?" he asked with a penetrating gaze.

She couldn't help but hesitate. Was it safe to inform him about this? Yes, he was one of the most powerful wizards in history, but Granger had often made her swear not to trust the older man too much.

_You need to tell him about this_, Granger assured her and strangely enough, Hermione believed that to be true; believed her unconscious more than the Headmaster.

"I had a nightmare in my first year. This was my very first one and I remember seeing a man—I'm sure it was Riddle—kill an elderly woman. She mentioned a cup and I saw it in my dreams again last month," she explained and fiddled through her bag to find the diary that she'd luckily remembered to bring with her. She looked for the very first drawing and showed it to him. "Here! He was giving this exact cup to someone."

One look at the page and Professor Dumbledore immediately rose from his chair with wide eyes. "Hermione, you should've shown this to me earlier," he exclaimed, taking a hold of the diary. "Has anyone else seen this?"

She froze, grasping onto the bracelet she'd received from the boys like it was her lifeline.

"No one else," she lied, rising from her seat, as well. "What does this mean?"

He began to head towards the Floo and said, "I believe this to be Helga's Cup."

"How can you know what it looks like?" she asked as she followed him.

"Do you remember the artifacts owned by the Gaunts?"

Her eyes widened. Slytherin's ring and locket.

"Oh, Godric." Her hand flew to her mouth, and she stared at Professor Dumbledore, a silent need for Granger to confirm her assumption. "Could this be - no, did Riddle try to get every founder's artifacts?"

She had initially learned about them in _Hogwarts: A History_, and as far as she knew, they were lost not only across the land, but also oceans. There was no way that he could've found each one of them.

And yet . . . Granger's silence meant _something_.

Professor Dumbledore seemed to be thinking something along the same lines, as he said, "I think it's time to give us a hint, Miss Granger."

A beat and then, _He already possesses all of them_. Granger sighed and she proceeded to explain, _I cannot tell you how important they are without giving you the crucial, yet dangerous answer. Just know that it may be time to introduce Hermione to the Order._

Hermione repeated each word to the Headmaster, giving him a long look at the end. She hadn't forgotten about the rumoured group, no matter how many times the old wizard had managed to change the subject.

"If she says it's time, it's time," she said firmly, passing him the Floo Powder before he could say otherwise. "You were going there, weren't you? Then, it's only right I'm there to explain, as well."

He remained quiet for a few seconds, allowing his fingers to play with his wiry beard. "Hermione, you would come, even if I told you not to. So, it does us no good to waste time."

A younger Hermione would've been horrified at the mere thought of disobeying the Headmaster. Now though, she took his words as a compliment.

Briefly, she wondered if Moody would be surprised to see her there. There was no doubt of the old, cranky man being a member, and a smirk seeped through her lips.

Time to get things going.

"Fenwick Manor!"

Her smile fell right off.

.

Hermione looked around in surprise, wiping the soot off her clothes. Her eyes wide, she took in the pastel coloured walls, somewhat eccentric and yet, something she would expect from Benjy's parents.

Professor Dumbledore led her down from the wide hallway to a larger parlour, furnished with typical navy-blue sets of couches that one would only expect from a Ravenclaw.

A whole family of them, she assumed.

Her eyes were greeted by several people in the room, and she walked towards them in a confident stride. Still looking for her new mentor, her gaze moved around several new faces until it swept past a certain couple.

Her eyes moved back towards them, looking at the notorious black hair and moving down to their faces.

_Oh._

She had not expected that to happen. Yet she _should_ have.

_Oops? _Granger tried, but Hermione was still too frozen to even think back of a reply.

Did Merlin hate her? Was that what it was about?

"Hermione, what are you doing here?"

Her hands trembled and she clasped them together, somewhat hoping that it would kill the nerves that had immediately come alive inside of her. She gave the concerned woman a brief smile, extremely sure that it looked like a grimace, nonetheless.

"Dorea - err, hello," she spluttered, her mind setting off alarms at how terrible her first impression to others was sure to turn out. "And Charlus, you are here, too. Of course, you're here." She let out a short laugh, only for the room to remain silent as every member stared at her, like she was some sort of spectacle.

"Hermione!" Red hair flashed in front of her, and she was swept in a chaste embrace by - two people? She pulled back and looked at the cheshire grins on both twins' faces.

_The Prewetts_, Granger mumbled.

"Didn't expect to see you here, little Black," said Gideon, his blinking getting rapidly faster as he looked at her.

She stepped back, though Fabian wasted no time in slinging his arm around her shoulders. "Not that we didn't miss you!"

Hermione would be lying if she said she hadn't missed their cheery voices ringing around the castle. While not on the same level as the Marauders—she needed to support her best friends, of course—the twins were still remembered fondly for the numerous times they'd made the entire Great Hall laugh.

Well . . . excluding Professor McGonagall and the Slytherins.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and she was immediately by his side, her face impassive. "While many of you may know her," he said with an amused smile, "I would like you to meet Hermione Black."

She gnawed on her bottom lip, well aware of the penetrating gaze of the Potters. If they said anything to James, there was no way she could continue to lie—

"Why is she here, Albus?" Dorea asked expectantly, "And don't you dare say this is one of your many secrets. She is just a _child_." Her voice was calm, but Hermione could clearly see the trait of Slytherin in her.

She would be lying if she said that she hadn't missed her. Charlus and her were the only figures in her life that showed her affection without any hesitation from their part.

Still, did she _really_ have to meet them again in such circumstances?

"She has an important role that I was meaning to talk about," the Headmaster offered as a response, still not talking about her Seer abilities.

_Good_, Granger said. _He needs to be as vague as possible._

"That Prophecy nonsense?" A black-haired woman scoffed loudly — Dorcas! — blue eyes examining Hermione up and down with an affronted look. "Merlin, don't tell me it's _her_."

Hermione scowled, but her attention finally moved towards Moody as he stood up. He gruffly walked towards her and stopped right by her side. "I've been making sure she can defeat more Death Eaters than you ever will."

The woman's nostrils flared, but she surprisingly remained quiet. "Couldn't you have just let us meet the Seer, instead? At the very least, that person will know who to inform of anything, if you're unavailable. As for her, it's useless to wait for destiny to do its magic and have this little girl defeat You-Know-Who."

A smile still on Professor Dumbledore's face, he said, "Now, Dorcas. Let's not be too quick to judge. While I'm sure you want to know who saved your parents, you're well aware that it would put a risk to the person's life. Our Hermione also has an important role in this fight, she is, after all, the Chosen One to kill Voldemort."

_I forgot how much I despise this name_, Granger muttered in her mind, and Hermione couldn't help but agree with her.

The Chosen One . . . They all thought that her and the Seer were two different people.

Many flinched at the mention of the monster—the same one they were all supposed to defeat—though, the only people that didn't react at all at the name were busier looking terrified for her life.

"Hermione," Charlus breathed out in shock, worried lines marred his forehead as he placed a hand on his wife's arm.

Dorea, who had always managed to keep a serene and composed smile no matter what, seemed to be trembling at the mere thought of Hermione having to stand in this room.

"Albus," she began through gritted teeth. "When you informed us of a Project that told us of that monster's death, not only did you refuse to tell us of the exact words, but you also refused to tell us if you had found that person. Have you known it was her all along?"

"I have," he answered calmly. "All this secrecy is for Hermione's own safety, Dorea. The only reason I'm telling you about her is because she needs to be a part of this and experience it. Alastor has told me of her progress and she's as good—if not more knowledgeable—as any person in this room."

Dorcas made a displeased noise. "She would be just dragging us down in missions. Doesn't she have classes?"

"Indeed. That is why she will start as a part of the planning group. She is quick witted enough to form reasonable plans. I hope you don't mind, Alessia."

The woman sent Hermione a warm smile, her tanned skin glowing under the natural light as she waved a hand at the Headmaster. "Nonsense. I'm sure Henry will also appreciate an additional mind to help us out."

"Right then," Professor Dumbledore clapped his hands and gestured for Hermione to sit down. Albeit hesitant, she joined Dorea and Charlus the moment they moved away from each other and made space for her, right in between them.

"Now, as you have been informed in the past, Riddle spent many years in his search for a particular woman. Are any of you aware of who might be the owner of Helga's Cup?"

Murmurs went around the room and eventually, a woman cleared her throat. "Last I heard, it was in the possession of Hepzibah Smith. My dad saw her often at his shop, but she eventually moved elsewhere in England."

She paused, squinting her eyes at the large table surrounded by the sofa. "If I remember correctly, she also frequently visited Borgin and Burkes."

"Smith is dead," Moody informed them before any of them could get their hopes up.

That was what he did best.

"She was found murdered in her home right after this Yule. The Muggle police found her first, and when the Aurors took over, there wasn't much left to be used as evidence."

Professor Dumbledore sighed heavily, his expression regretful as he looked towards her. How were they going to find it now?

"What does it have to do with You-Know-Who?" someone asked from the other side of the couch, and she tensed.

_Exactly why are we searching for it, Granger?_

"It was just a dream, it seems. Onto other matters, you all know of Voldemort's rumoured place of hiding and it's time you check it out before he moves again. Henry?"

The man next to Alessia sat straighter and nodded at the Headmaster. "Yes, we had sent the twins to look over the property, so that we could make a sketch of it and find the best entrance to check inside." He craned his neck to look at Hermione and tilted his head. "I'm sure that we will be able to plan it faster, now that we have Hermione."

The man gave her a gentle smile and she was immediately reminded of his son.

Alessia and Henry Fenwick.

How fitting, for the whole family to be so kind and welcoming.

.

Hermione frowned at the Potters. "I know you're going to say I shouldn't be here—"

"It's not your choice, we know," Charlus said gently, his lips turned downwards. With his hand on top of her head, he sighed heavily. "I can't even imagine how hard this must be for you."

A soft sob wretched out of Dorea's mouth and Hermione found herself engulfed in her tight embrace.

"My _baby._"

Hermione broke then. She had tried valiantly to keep her emotions in check, but in that moment, she couldn't help but think of herself in a mother's arms. Her eyes prickled with hot tears, and she continued to listen to Dorea's murmurs.

"You've gone through so much already." Her grip of Hermione tightened, and she could see tears glitter Charlus's eyes.

"Please, don't tell the boys," Hermione pleaded, pulling away just briefly to look at the older woman's face.

Dorea frowned deeply. "Does Sirius know?"

"Only him, and - it's probably best if it stays that way."

Charlus sighed heavily, but he seemed to agree. "The boys will only be rash in these moments. Of course, I wish you had told us immediately, but I understand why Dumbledore had to wait before your training . . ."

"Doesn't mean you're alone now," Dorea argued, her hand cupped Hermione's cheek and she wiped away a few tears, "We will help you as much as we can. You're too young, but I'd be damned if I let that sick monster think he can defeat you."

"That's right." Charlus straightened and he seemed more determined than ever. "I mean, this is Hermione we're talking about."

"Has Moody been kind to you?"

"Should I have a talk with him?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and put her hands up as though to calm them down. "You guys just told me that I can handle this. Do you really think I'd let a grumpy man like Moody bring me down?"

"That's right—oh, Alastor. There you are." Charlus looked behind her and flashed her mentor a cheeky grin, resembling his son back at Hogwarts.

She whirled around and raised a brow at the man, who seemed to be intent in looking anywhere else but at her. "Charlus," he barked loudly. "The lass is stronger than you think. You should worry more about yourself."

His wand snapped up, but she wrapped the three of them in a Shield Charm before he could utter a single spell.

He gave her an approving nod. "Constant vigilance!"

* * *

Many more came to talk to her then, having witnessed how quick she'd been at avoiding Alastor Moody's attack. From familiar faces like the twins, Dorcas Meadowes—who still considered her a second year student—to new people like Emmaline Vance, Edgar Bones, Caradoc Dearborn, Dedalus Diggle, and Elphias Doge.

They all spent very few moments talking to her, having other duties to get to. Many of them were already Aurors, if not trainees for the job.

Once Alessia and Henry told her about how their son had talked a bit about her and the Marauders' reputation at Hogwarts, she tried her best not to look embarrassed and keep a confident stance. They led her to their study, showing her a number of maps and how far they'd gotten with the latest plan.

It made sense and even when they asked for her opinion on certain points, she could tell that they appreciated her point of view.

She never felt so helpful.

"Right." Alessia clapped her hands and carded a hand through her jet-black hair. "I believe this is the best plan we've ever made, Hermione."

"Let's hope it's also effective," she said, only for Henry to stand up with a shrug. His dark brown hair curled under his fingers and he tried to straighten it.

"Don't you worry, Miss Black. Even if the plans admittedly fail most of the time, our members are truly the best at fighting for as long as they can, no matter what."

Hermione could already tell how powerful each wizard and witch was. It also seemed that, even though Voldemort had been back for only so long, confrontations between the Death Eaters and Order members had already started.

It explained how Abraxas had come to know about the Order so quickly.

"Let's just hope that you get to kill You-Know-Who without attending many battles. If only we could find his weakness . . ." Alessia trailed off, picking up the empty cups of tea and leading them away from the room.

She nodded faintly. If only Granger could tell her about the weakness already—

_Just wait, please_, Granger told her quietly.

But how long could one wait, before the whole world turned to ash?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it just me or has April flown by way too quickly? Anyways, I hope you enjoy this new chapter and take care of yourself! Thank you so much for all the kudos, comments and bookmarks.


	44. Ominous

**March, 1976.**

Back from yet another lesson on non-verbal magic with Moody, Hermione walked around the hallways for a while. She relished the feel of the silent breeze that helped her mind freshen up. The weight of the responsibilities she carried continued to add on, and she could only push her shoulders back to walk as confidently as she could.

She would be damned if she let anyone break her down - not even the Order members. Hermione could care less if they thought of her as a little girl now, as she was sure that they'll be surprised in the future.

However, a sense of unease crept in her mind as she stared back at Sirius. Her steps faltered and she could barely lift her mouth into a smile, to the point he began to walk past her - as though he hadn't noticed her at all.

Right. Something was definitely wrong.

She whirled around and hurried to catch up to him, biting down a groan at the jolt of pain that hit her ankle. "Sirius!" she called out, resolved on ignoring the heavy drag of her feet.

His shoulders seemed to tense, but he continued to walk away from her, the map visible in his hands.

_Fuck._

She began to sprint then, before he could get any farther away from her. Another sharp pain kicked at her ankle and she couldn't help but fall at that. Her knees hit the hard ground and she swallowed yet another whimper at the pain.

_Come on, Hermione. You've had worse with Moody_, she thought desperately.

Her heartbeat slammed in her ears, loud and frantic as she glanced up at her twin, who had now turned around to finally look at her. His brows were drawn together in concern and he hurried to gather her in her arms.

She would've said that he didn't need to do that — she could get up just fine — but at his hesitancy to even just approach her, she couldn't help but use the pain at her advantage.

He silently helped her up, looking down at her feet with a frown. "Did anything happen to your ankle?"

She shook her head faintly. "Ah - I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I just tripped on air."

He blinked at her slowly, his lip curling. "You think I'm stupid, don't you?" he asked, his voice flat.

"What?"

"You know . . . All the guys were asking where you could be because to them, it just seemed obvious for me to know where you are. Now, how could I tell them that my lovely twin has decided that it's no good telling me things?" The slightly mocking tone he gave didn't escape her.

_Hermione. Do you think he knows?_ Granger asked. Hermione tried to keep her eyes from widening, instead she focused on the image of her mental walls to keep an impassive mask on her face.

"What are you—"

"Oh, that _look_," he said, his voice strained. "I think it's just _fantastic_ how similar you've started to look to our dear Father."

She closed her eyes in frustration. A headache was beginning to form in the back of her eyes and Sirius's vague remarks were not helping.

"Sirius," she began, her heart frozen in fear as her whole body tensed. "What could I possibly be hiding—"

The lie felt bitter in her mouth, even more as his expression instantly shifted into one of disbelief. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into an alcove, where he waved his wand around to cast a Silencing Spell.

"You're gone in the mornings and when you're not having a lesson with Snape, you're with Dumbledore. I can feel you torment yourself during every Hogsmeade weekend through the bond but when I look at the map, you're nowhere to be found." He ran a hand across his eyes with a humorless laugh.

Her lips parted on a breath and for a moment she doubted she'd heard him right. She should've expected it, if not been prepared for it. It was unreasonable to think that she could hide everything from her twin for long enough.

"I admit I haven't been telling you everything," she whispered, her voice hoarse. She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, set to restrain the burn in her eyes. "I—I really just . . . want to keep you _safe_."

She grabbed both of his hands and forced him to look at her, then. "I was just so afraid, after Father's death. It was a sacrifice for me that I couldn't let anyone make again."

He clenched his jaw, snapping it shut in disbelief. "You're telling me that," his voice broke and he let out a short, bitter laugh, "you think I should just let you kill yourself because of this stupid Prophecy - that doesn't mean _shit_, by the way."

She frowned. "Well. I'm not one to trust Divination, but with Granger and the Centaurs, I think it's obvious that I'm the only one that can defeat him—"

"Where does it say that you have to do it _alone?_"

She looked at him in shock. "What?"

"I don't know what Dumbledore, Granger or even fucking Malfoy told you, but that prophecy doesn't mean anything to me. I'm not letting you work yourself to death to kill a monster that even the greatest wizard of all time hasn't been able to kill," he told her, his voice harsh as he placed his large hands over hers.

"I have to do it," she snapped, pushing herself away from his hold. "You don't know _anything_, Sirius. I've been training for this, and now you're saying that I don't _have_ to do it—"

"And there it is," he cut her off with a bitter smile. "You're right. You've been training and I didn't know anything. Forget the fact that you hid this from me for how long, I'm not even sure."

"I told you," she spluttered irritably. "I did it to protect you—"

"And I still can't do the same for you? Merlin, can't I know what's going on with my sister that's made her so exhausted? Can't I help her, so that she never feels this damn burden all alone?"

She bit his lip but didn't argue. As his eyes slammed close, she caught the tear that slipped down on his cheek under the dim light of the candles, and she hurried to wipe it away.

Hermione couldn't keep it from him anymore. Had it been her in his place, she would've been intolerable and yet - Sirius still just wanted to help her.

Granger sighed. _Tell him everything._

That was the last push she needed.

In the dark corner of Hogwarts, she confessed everything she'd done since January, from her lessons with Dumbledore and Moody, to her first meeting with the Order. And in his tight embrace, Hermione found that nothing was worth more than her brother's encouraging whispers, telling her of how strong she had been so far.

"You're not alone, Hermione," she heard him say. "The boys and I will get better at DADA, too. I'm not letting you fight by yourself."

She pulled back with a frown. "Sirius, I'm not sure Moody will agree to train anyone else."

"Don't worry, Cub. Let's just say that someone else is in debt to me." His smirk dropped and he glanced away from her. "Hold on. Is that Remus and Reg—_Merlin's saggy left testicle!_"

_This boy's language is just horrible_, Granger muttered irritably.

_I think we've got worse issues to deal with_, Hermione thought as she tried to stop Sirius from announcing what he'd just seen to the whole entire castle.

.

"We were just talking," Regulus drawled in a bored tone, a brow arched at Sirius - whose amused eyes continued to slide from their younger brother to Remus.

Remus coughed into his fist. "Yeah, _talking_ . . . getting to know each other."

Hermione drew a calming breath. "You're not—"

"—helping," Sirius finished with a wide grin.

Regulus urged out a loud groan, looking two seconds away from asking the ground to swallow him whole. "Can I go back to my dorm?"

"With Remus?" Sirius asked, feigning ignorance.

The werewolf glared at him. "Pads, shut the fuck up."

She bit down a smile. "You're a changed person now. Reggie, just what have you done to our precious bookworm?"

Her little brother eyed her in disbelief and sighed heavily. "Not you too, Hermione," he pleaded, his bottom lip pulled into a pout and his eyes wide.

It didn't take long for her to feel bad. She grabbed her twin's arm and said, "Sorry, I couldn't help it." She cleared her throat and glared at Sirius. "Now, why don't we let both precious people in our lives . . . get to know themselves better."

"Not physically I hope!" Sirius hollered, now across the hallway.

At that, he got to see her new wand skills and while he was thoroughly jealous at first, she listened to his proud tone the whole time they made their way back to the Gryffindor tower.

* * *

The next day, Hermione couldn't help but feel lighter - _hopeful_. No longer as disgruntled as he had been when she had first woken him up, Sirius had joined her on her run and tried to keep up with each set of exercise planned for the day.

They had returned to the dorm and gotten ready just in time to see their best friends wake up. They decided that it was time to show their appreciation for the beauty that was Muggle literature.

Sirius jumped on James's bed with an enthusiastic grin plastered on his face. "Wake up, _Bambi!_"

Hermione's turn to annoy yet another boy, she walked up to the groggy werewolf's bed with a thoughtful look.

_Little Red Riding Hood_, Granger suggested, and she smiled with glee.

Her fingers wrapped around the top of the blanket, she peeked at his face, still put out as he swept a hand through his bed hair.

"Are you there, _Big Bad Wolf?_"

He let out a loud groan and she hopped off the bed before he could say anything else, instead joining Sirius as they made their way towards Peter.

They shared a look and mentally counted to three. "If it isn't our lovely _Roquefort._"

"It's awfully creepy that you said the exact same sentence," she heard James mumble from behind and she immediately turned around, walking over to him as he kept looking for his glasses.

Hermione grabbed them quietly and sat down on the side of the mattress. She slid closer to fit them on his face and watched carefully as he blinked at her rapidly.

Her eyes followed the tendril of hair that slipped on his forehead. Before she could think twice of it, her fingers pushed it back with a gentle smile.

Hermione was mesmerized by how _gentle_ his beauty felt. She was sure that if the human heart could melt, hers would - right this instant. A need to press her lips to his soft skin hit her, fierce and ardent until she forcefully dimmed it down.

He reached up and swept a lock of her hair behind her ear, brushing her cheek with his thumb as he did so. "Your hair smells good," he mumbled, and his Adam's apple bobbled.

"You . . ." she began but found that she had no actual words that could describe how _good_ everything about him felt, all of the sudden.

Remus's voice seemed to bring James back, startling him as he looked towards the werewolf. "I'm famished, so hurry up if you don't want to miss breakfast."

She didn't bother turning around — no, she was pretty sure that she _couldn't_ look away from his face. His dark brows were drawn together, just as he sucked in his lips at the thought of something. When they came back into view, they looked more inviting than anything ever could.

His warm fingers curled around her wrist and she looked back into his eyes, an inquisitive hum escaping her mouth.

"Will you wait for me?" he asked, licking his lips as he waited for an answer

Their chests rose in sync, she noticed, and for some very strange reason, she could not help but think that she would wait _centuries_ for him.

If it meant spending all the time in the world in his presence.

Hermione nodded weakly, watching silently as he began to look positively giddy and he cleared his throat. They lingered in the current position perhaps a bit longer than necessary, and once he finally got up, he grabbed his set of clothes from his trunk and shuffled towards the bathroom.

She peered over her shoulder just in time to see James turn, his gaze rooted on her. He winked then, giving her no time to react before he chuckled and left the room.

Hermione couldn't help but gape at the empty spot, her face positively heating up.

_What the fuck is going on?_ Granger groaned.

* * *

Hermione turned her eyes away from the older woman, her eyes flickered across the small piece of paper in front of her.

_'How come you haven't told the rest of the boys about your Slytherin?'_

She slid it towards Remus and looked back at Professor McGonagall just in time for her to arch a stiff, grey brow at her. She sent her professor a wide smile that the woman ignored, continuing with her lecture.

Hermione looked down to find his reply all ready for her to read.

_'I might announce it on James's birthday.'_

She nodded thoughtfully. "Stealing all the spotlight, I see," she whispered, giving him a sideways look.

"More like giving him the best gift of his life," he muttered under his breath, and her head snapped towards him, confusion etched on her face.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," he hurried to say, but she already had her eyes narrowed at him.

"Why would it be a gift?" she asked, not realizing how loud she'd been until every head turned towards her.

"_Ahem_." Her head snapped up to find Professor McGonagall standing right by her desk, a brow arched at her. How on earth had she even gotten to their desk this fast? She doubted even _Moody_ would be able to do that.

"Professor," she began hastily. "Good morning."

"Yes, yes," the woman dismissed her sharply. "Must I switch your seats like two little kids, for you to be quiet, Miss Black?"

Hermione slid down her chair in embarrassment. She could feel her neck get warmer as each second passed, and she hurried to shake her head. "I'm sorry, Professor."

"Be nice to our Minnie," Sirius tutted loudly from behind, and she forced her glare to herself. "I'm sure _I'm_ the Black of your dreams, aren't I, Minnie? I truly respect you for that."

"Then I insist you switch spots with Miss Black for today and sit in the front," Professor McGonagall said with a sweet, sarcastic tone. She looked back at Hermione and sighed. "Sit with Mr. Potter and let's hope he doesn't become a worse influence on you."

She silently nodded and gathered up her things, strangely aware of one person's stare that she could still feel as the professor moved back to the front. Hermione craned her neck to find emerald eyes watching her closely, an odd expression on the Prefect's face but Hermione looked away.

She had other things to worry about, she decided - like sending Sirius her scariest scowl when she passed by him. James's head whirled up in an instant as she approached her new seat, and she caught a glimpse of a growing smirk on his lips.

Her heart stuttered at the sight of it, and she quietly set up her stuff once again on the new spot. It was a tad different from what she was used to, she admitted. James's proximity felt unnerving, and she found herself constantly zoning and shifting her attention to her best friend.

She could hardly concentrate and that was no good!

Feeling unreasonable, Hermione glared at the shirtsleeves rolled up to the middle of his forearms. He immediately seemed to notice; his lips turned downwards as he blinked at her in confusion.

"What did I do?" he whispered. Wide eyes peered over the top of his glasses that were perched low on his nose.

She took a deep breath. _Exist, be intolerably nice, move permanently into my mind like no best friend should—_

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing," she whispered back, though her face flushed against her will. It was absolutely sickening and yet, the tight feeling in her stomach told her something entirely else.

The quieter the room became, the more aware she became of his presence. He seemed to be constantly raking his hands through his hair, messing it. And as always, his arm continued to brush closer and closer to her whenever his hands dropped.

She sighed heavily. Was this some sort of late Animagus power that she had just received for some reason?

Still, when she chanced a glance at him, chin propped on his upturned palm as he steepled two fingers over his mouth, she found that it wasn't really _that_ bad.

Not until he began to tap his fingers on the table. By then, she had enough and immediately placed her hand over his. "Stop that," she hissed.

He silently turned his hand over and intertwined his fingers with hers, a half-smile on his face.

Her mouth opened and closed around words that refused to part from her lips. Her instincts told her to move away, but her heart did a funny shuddering sort of thing that left her wanting for more.

It was as if James had lit something inside her that wasn't going to die down any time soon.

* * *

It seemed like a miracle, when Hermione found Marlene in the library, of all places. This was the same girl that had continued to drag Hermione _away_ from it for five years. Now, she couldn't help but shake her head fondly at the pair before her eyes.

"Are my eyes deceiving me?" she exclaimed in feigned shock, before being attacked into a hug and having perfect, blonde hair come into view.

"Hello to you, too," Benjy greeted somewhere from the desk, and she waved her hand around randomly, still stuck in the tight embrace.

She heard Marlene grunt, and she pulled away to see the blonde's glare. Surprised, she asked, "What's that for?"

"You're harder to find than a perfect pair of tight jeans," Marlene deadpanned, her lips pursed.

Sitting down, Hermione sent her a sheepish smile. "That's a really good comparison, now that I think about it," she said thoughtfully.

Her eyes moved towards Benjy, who greeted her with a beaming smile as always. His hair was so long now that he had it tied in a ponytail. And even as they began to talk about how the couple came to be, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the boy was aware of the Order.

Contrary to what she hoped, there was a big chance that he _was_ even part of it.

_Why are you so worried about it?_ Granger asked her, once the group had settled on finishing up their homework.

Hermione's gaze slid towards the blonde girl sitting right by his side, his arm wrapped around her waist.

_Death should not be a reason to break them apart_, she answered in her mind.

The thought alone felt awfully ominous. Granger's silence just made it much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so, so much for all the love and appreciation you've given this story. Now, regarding this chapter . . . I finished it up last night, just to find out about the passing of an actor that I highly respected. I am sorry if this update is not up to par. I really tried my best to check it over with a positive mind.
> 
> The other thing I'll be talking about is not regarding this story, so you don't have to read the rest of this note. I just want to say that I have pondered over many things last night; life and all. Well, I'm not going to talk about life, because I have a whole other opinion about mine that will be concerning to others. Instead, I have realized how much I continue to take the people in my life for granted. Not even just those that I interact with directly, but also those that provide me with so much passion, inspiration, entertainment and even just a smile. I hope this message reaches out to you in a way that encourages you to love and appreciate everyone as much as you can, like it's the last day for both sides.


	45. Curse Flying!

**March, 1976.**

James instantly hooked his arm around her waist. He could feel her frantic heartbeat rise, his own booming in his ears like a ticking bomb.

"Hey, I've got you," he reassured her, his voice soft but clear. He heard a shaky breath, and then the girl in his arm froze, her body stiffening.

He pulled away slightly and instantly saw it on her face - an insatiable _fear_. He exhaled heavily. There had to be something that could help her, other than her twin bond with Sirius.

James shifted on her bed, so that she could lean her back against his chest. Her shuddering breaths vibrated close to his heart, and he hurried to say something. "The boys just went to the Potions classroom to set up some dung bombs."

Hermione nodded mutely, and he settled his chin on her shoulder. Her body's warmth radiated against his like an oasis in the middle of a dry desert. He couldn't get enough of it, no matter how much he tried to run past it.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she muttered at last, her voice hoarse and tired. "I would like some distractions, though."

His hand twitched and he slowly began to trace patterns on her hand. His fingers moved around the gentle, soft skin as though he was drawing on parchment.

His mind traced back to a certain memory, the breeze wrapped around both of their bodies as his wand swirled to produce a flower for the birthday girl.

She looked breathtaking even then, but he pushed down the penetrating thought.

"A tulip," she murmured, just as he finished tracing the last few petals of the flower.

His breath hitched, and he nodded. "You're too quick for me." He laughed lowly, his fingers now directed towards her wrist. He made several circular motions, hoping the action would be as soothing as his mum had made it out to be when he was a kid.

Hermione turned around and clutched the front of his shirt in a tight grip. "Don't leave me, please," she insisted sleepily, her hold now starting to loosen.

He silently held her hands and placed a hesitant kiss on them. "I won't," he assured her, his eyes fixed on the dark outline of her eyes.

If only she could see the intensity his gaze burned with.

James shook his head. This was no time for such thoughts — or perhaps, it will never be appropriate for them. The thought clawed at his heart like a wolf, and he almost snorted - just barely restraining to keep his ironic, short laugh to himself as the girl fell asleep in his hold.

The breath left him in a whoosh, and he helped Hermione lay down as gently as he could. He placed his glasses somewhere on the floor and grasped for the cover that she'd thrown away in panic. A warm blanket now covering both, he gathered her in his arms protectively.

No nightmare should dare to come in his presence.

"Sleep," he whispered thoughtlessly, and his chest felt lighter than it ever had, with Hermione in his arms after he tried his best to do something nice for her.

He just hoped that it worked, that she could get the rest that she rightfully deserved.

The door creaked and his head snapped towards the entrance. Remus walked over to his bed and only then did he notice the additional presence on Hermione's mattress.

James could only watch as his brows scrunched in concern . . . or jealousy? He swallowed a growing lump in his throat.

"A nightmare?" His question felt more like a statement, and James nodded in assent.

"Pads and Wormtail decided to visit the kitchens, so I don't know how long it will take for Sirius to get here. Err - should I come—"

"No." James cringed as the word swiftly came out of his mouth. The werewolf arched a brow at him, and James thought he'd seen his lips quirk up a little.

Did he think of him as a _joke?_

He mentally shook his head. Remus was still his best friend. He needed to act nice—

"Y'know, you don't have to worry about me," his best friend called from his bed, but James refused to look at him.

He clenched his jaw tightly. He was sure that Remus had no idea of what he was talking about.

* * *

Someone was shaking her shoulders and Hermione wanted to do nothing but throttle the hell out of that person.

Even if it turned out to be James. "Hermione," he muttered, his tone so urgent that her eyes couldn't help but snap open.

She blinked up at the ceiling before her eyes swept over to the boy that sat next to her - on _her_ bed. Memories from last night rushed in her mind like a hurricane and she swallowed a groan.

_Now - let's calm down, Hermione_, Granger hurried to whisper, an attempt to calm her down.

It didn't help that James swept his hair back with his tongue visibly poking at his cheek. His dark brows were drawn together, but he still smiled down at her with a charming glint in his hazel eyes.

She glued her jaw together to keep it from falling apart and looked away, only then noticing her brother. He stood by her bed with his arms crossed and narrowed eyes from her, James and then back at her.

"What happened?" She was sure she had yet to take any life changing decisions for him - like stopping him from trying cigarettes. Her face screwed up on the side and she focused back on her twin.

His finger pointed at her and then their best friend in an accusing stance. "That's what _I_ should be asking," he growled, his nostrils flaring like an angry dog.

"I had a nightmare and you weren't there," she answered flatly. "I don't see anything wrong with him being here," she did actually, but not really wrong . . . just in a way that left her wanting it to happen _every day_, "so you don't get to say anything!"

It didn't take long for him to realize it was a losing battle. "Fine," he muttered sulkily, and he scratched the back of his neck. "Get ready. We have Potions soon."

With that, he turned around and everyone followed - except for James, of course. It was as if it was becoming usual for them to be in each other's bed and be the last ones to leave the dorm.

Hermione cleared her throat at the thought and looked at him. "Thank you for last night." She gave him a sheepish smile that he gladly returned with a grin.

"Why, no need to thank me, my lady," he said with exaggerated solemnity. She patted his head and laughed when he complained about his hair getting messy.

"Are you sure it's not always like this?"

The corners of his lips tugged into a smirk as he stared at her. "But you like it that way, don't you?"

"I do, actually." She pushed him off the bed and rolled over, hurrying to get away as his complaints resonated in the room.

.

Hermione thoughtlessly seized his hand and quickened her pace. "Hurry up. We're late," she hissed, her face warm at the mere thought. She couldn't remember the last time she had to enter a classroom with the lecture already started.

She heard his low chuckle and paused to send him a glare. It only seemed to amuse him further. "It's not that big of a deal," he protested with a pout, "we are doing work in pairs today, so . . ."

"So what?" she asked; a swift left turn and the door to the Potions classroom was now visible. She expelled a relieved breath.

"We can just pair up."

She bit her lip and glanced back at him. "I'm actually supposed to help Remus today," she told him. "I'm sorry—"

"_Nah_. It's fine," he said curtly. He waved a dismissive hand and shrugged. "We should probably hurry up, before he blows up a cauldron or something . . ."

Hermione couldn't ignore the edge buried in his voice. Her brows furrowed, her eyes searched his face for any emotion.

She got none.

* * *

Hermione stood in front of her mentor, unable to keep herself from checking the time.

"Lass!" Moody barked. "Will you focus, or should I leave?"

Her attention now solely on the older man, she hurried to apologize. "I'm sorry. It's just that — well, my best friend's birthday is in a few hours . . ."

Moody gave her a scrutinizing stare. "I don't remember asking," he retorted, his tongue clicking. "But if you focus, both of us can leave this room sooner."

She nodded furiously. His narrowed gaze remained on her for a couple more seconds before he eyed her wand. "Now that you've practiced the proper motions and pronunciation for this spell, you need to find a happy memory once again. Can you do that and not fail this time?"

Hermione's back immediately straightened at the biting comment. They'd been at it for more than just a few hours, and Hermione would be damned if she left the room without reaching her goal. "Of course, I can," she sniffed haughtily, her eyes already fluttering close.

She took a deep breath and focused on the lingering memories of her childhood. It wasn't a happy one, but that didn't mean that her brothers hadn't made it worth it.

She thought of Sirius and Regulus flying on their brooms for the very first time, their wide, mesmerized smiles stuck on their faces as they waved at her from up in the air. She could hear her own faint voice telling them to remain careful, getting amused laughs from those two little boys.

Hermione's eyes flashed open and she drew her wand in circles. "Expecto Patronum!" she cried out.

Only a faint light puffed out from the tip, and her head hung back in frustration.

"This is too hard!" The statement felt strange even to herself, so she had no doubt as to why Moody was glaring at her.

"You don't see the change? Earlier, nothing came out of that wand of yours. Now, your power directed at this spell is increasing. It will be only a matter of time until it reaches its full potential."

"Let's try again—"

He shook his head. His cane clicked against the pavement and he moved away from her. "It's enough for today. Your . . . _homework_," he spat, "is to think of a proper, strong memory. Don't know what you Blacks were up to as kids, but maybe think of your present, instead."

She stared at his back and nodded. She could do that.

_I believe in you_, Granger encouraged her, and her determination only grew further.

* * *

Hermione walked through the hallways in a hurry. She was sure she had tripped over something back there, but with the speed she had gotten up in, she couldn't quite tell what it had been.

Concerned over the fact that she may have hit a kid, she looked back with wide eyes. Hermione breathed out in relief when it turned out to be just some quills.

Tripping over quills? Moody wouldn't be impressed, she thought morosely.

Hermione was about to turn back around when sheer force stopped her from moving forward. She collided into something hard and was held steadily by her shoulders.

"Fuck," she moaned as she rubbed her forehead. Oh, she was _definitely_ late, and Remus had yet another reason to call himself the most punctual.

"That's no language to be used in here, Miss Black," a familiar voice teased.

Her head snapped up, and a lazy smile spread across James's lips. "Hello," she breathed out. Clearing her throat, she straightened and pulled away from him. "Fancy seeing you here."

He tilted his head. "I'll say," he said lowly, his hand raking through his hair like usual. "I was just looking for you."

She eyed him appraisingly. "Why's that?"

"The lads have been avoiding me." His brows scrunched in obvious conflict, and she couldn't help but feel bad for him. "I think I did something, but I don't know what."

_You need to go and help them with preparations_, Granger hissed, but Hermione remained rooted to her spot.

There was some sort of string that had tangled her and James together. She just _couldn't_ leave him be like this.

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and instantly grabbed his hand. He eyed her in surprise but before he could say something and cause her cheeks to redden, she began to drag him towards the Hogwarts grounds.

"Hermione, not that I don't enjoy your hand in mine very much—"

Her lips parted on a breath, and she turned around to look at him. "What?"

"I mean," he stammered, but he didn't attempt to pull away from her. "We - well, I . . . it's nice. Is it not?"

"It is," she granted steadily. "Very, but that's not why we're here." They both looked around the Quidditch practice grounds, and she reminisced about the time she'd recently spent with James here.

She couldn't help but smile. "We're here so that you can teach me how to fly."

There was a beat of silence, where they did nothing but stare at each other's eyes with an unaddressed fire. One that she wasn't yet sure of its origin.

"I'm here to teach you how to fly," he repeated, bewildered. "You on a broom? Hermione, are you _alright?_"

She rolled her eyes. "I know that I haven't been quite welcoming to the idea of flying," he made a sound like a strangled cough and she glared at him, "but there's still time to change that. Only if you want to . . ."

"Of course, I do," he said immediately, a wide grin on his face. "You don't know for how long I've waited for this. Remember the first Quidditch game we attended? I've been wanting to fly with you since then."

She didn't even try to hide her surprise. "Are you serious? We barely knew each other that well, back then—"

"I've always felt a connection with you," he confessed with a little half-smile, and he glanced away. "Anyways, let's go get my broom. It's probably better and safer if you fly with me first. _Definitely_ safer."

He started chuckling, and she was too distracted by his previous words to send him a scowl.

Granger's deep sigh rang in her head.

"Maybe, this was a bad idea," blurted out Hermione, her hands around his torso in a tight grip.

Over the loud rustle of the ancient trees, a flock of butterflies burst to life in her chest, when she heard him laugh. "Don't worry, Hermione! I've got you."

Her eyes fluttered close. Despite her current situation, the feeling of being at home followed her - even so high up from the ground. Her worries were whisked away by the faint breeze and James's presence.

There was something that felt highly illogical, but she'd be lying if Hermione said that she didn't enjoy it.

Well, she did until James decided to swing his legs back, turn around so that he could face her. She let out a startled scream and buried her face in his chest, comforted only with the mix of their heartbeats in her ears.

She felt his hands tracing the arc of her waist, gently running down her hips. "Hermione, don't tell me you don't trust me," he teased with a chuckle.

She pulled away to peer at him and whacked him on the chest. "It's not that I don't trust you," she argued. "It's just that . . . there's no need to be up in the air. I like my feet on the ground, thank you very much."

He started at her with an unfathomable expression, and his hold on her loosened. "Then, why are we here?"

Hermione hesitated, before her hands came up to cup his jaw. The afternoon sun doused his features in tangerine gold, and her thumb brushed against the soft skin in a daze.

"Because I like your company," she confessed after a moment, still uncertain. "I like — well, I like spending time with you. And . . ." There was still something that lodged in her mouth, no matter how hard her traitorous heart pricked at it.

"And?" His breath fanned across her face due to their proximity, and she wasn't sure she could rightly articulate her thoughts at the moment. Nor could she pull back, not when she could finally gaze at his features from close enough to know that he was perfect.

In every sense of the word.

Her face scrunched as she looked up to meet his eyes, his waiting, and suddenly very serious hazel eyes.

_You're not breathing_, Granger said in alarm, and she was reminded to inhale like a normal, functioning human being.

Definitely a big mistake on her part, now that his scent flooded her senses and confounded her more than he'd already had. His proximity was unnerving, and she nearly fell off the bloody broom. "And . . ." The huskiness in his voice sent another jolt through her.

Their noses touched and the tip of his tongue darted out and slipped along his lower lip. Her gaze immediately fell on his lips at that. They were untouched by the faint breeze, looking as bowed and plump and soft as ever.

Because she had been staring at them for some time, now.

James's grip tightened on her and her heartbeat pounded in her head louder, fiercer. Her eyes fluttered and she relished the feel of her body against his. "And—"

"Hermione!"

To her dismay, James had pulled away and her wide eyes remained stuck on him, even as he looked down at the ground. "Sirius? What do you want?"

He had his jaw clenched and before their eyes could meet once again, she followed his trail of sight and gazed down at the ground. She could see her twin wave up at them.

"We should go back down," she said airily, and though his stare was something she avidly avoided, she proceeded to hold him tight as they headed back on the Hogwarts grounds.

Her legs still shaky from the flight, she swallowed the lump in her throat and watched as Sirius laid an arm over his best friend's shoulder. "Oi! I've been looking for you everywhere."

James's stiff posture somewhat relaxed. "I thought you were avoiding me," he said morosely. "Should've known you were planning something for tomorrow."

Sirius gaped at her. "Hermione, you told him?"

Not yet trusting her voice to work, she stood by the broom and shook her head mutely.

"No, I just guessed that she was trying to distract me because of it," James hurried to say. They eyed each other; their gaze thick with the memory of a few moments ago. He cleared his throat and turned back around. "Are you done? 'Cause I'm famished."

Her brother hummed and gave them a wide grin. "Our destination is the kitchens!"

* * *

James watched as the house elves prepared the feast for the evening, then met the sight of the decorations propped up on all four sets of tables. His gaze halted on a familiar face and his jaw dropped.

"Mipsy?"

He eyed the familiar house elf incredulously, even as he began to walk and smiled down at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Miss Hermy and Master Siri called Mipsy here, for Master Jamie's birthday!"

"Don't forget about us, Mipsy," Peter protested. "Remus and I planned everything else!"

Hermione snorted loudly, and she patted the top of Mipsy's head. She looked at him and sent him a hesitant smile. "I thought you might miss Mipsy's usual birthday sweets."

"Of course, I did!" he exclaimed, already looking at the plate of treats with excitement. He looked at the mugs of Butterbeer and his smile only widened. "Sirius, no Firewhiskey?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Hermione said that it's too soon." Clapping his hands, he grinned down at Mipsy and gave himself an approving nod. "Now that the secret's out, can we eat?"

Cheerful whoops rang around the room and every other elf turned around to glare at them.

.

"So," Remus began, his face screwed up on the side.

His tongue poking out of his cheek, James noticed that the werewolf's eyes were fixed on Hermione even as he talked.

He dragged his eyes away and looked down at his Butterbeer, swallowing the last sip left on the mug. The taste felt more bitter than usual, and his lips folded in a tight line.

"There's something I need to tell you."

Hermione poked his arm, and James sent her a sideways look. He had made eyes at her several times over the evening, each time averting his gaze quickly. This time however, he had a proper reason to look away. He had an inkling as to what Remus was about to say, and the thought felt like a punch in the gut every time.

He knew that he needed to stay calm. He needed to stay in control because he didn't care what those two were up to—

But his last hope was going to be crushed. That too, on his birthday.

How unfair was that?

He ran his hand across his eyes and expelled a humorless laugh. His face bare of emotion, he said, "Go ahead, I guess—"

Remus sent him a knowing look. "I like Regulus."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you enjoy the new update. I thought it'd be interesting if I alternated points of view between Hermione and James. However, let me know if you found it too messy. I'm always glad to receive feedback.
> 
> Anyways, I thought it was time to introduce the Patronus charm. Let's hope she finds a proper memory soon!


	46. Protean Charm

**March, 1976.**

Spit caught in the back of his throat and he coughed and sputtered over his empty glass. A pin drop silence followed, and James could only watch as Hermione grinned at everyone's reactions.

She didn't seem affected, _at all_. Neither did her or Sirius look surprised, which called for yet another question.

But that was not what James should be focusing on currently. Remus liked Regulus—which meant that he didn't like _Hermione_—and if neither liked each other—

James walked over to Remus and clapped with his back with a sort of a dopey grin. "That's great, mate!" he said earnestly. _Way_ too earnestly, but he didn't care to hide _anything_. And as his best friend, being even happier for _Remus_ came as a default. "I didn't see it coming, but I'm so happy for you."

"Oh, I bet you didn't." Remus gave him a pointed look, one that silently called him out on how obvious his jealousy must've looked to the werewolf. "But thanks."

Peter came forward to show how happy he was and yada, yada, yada — but _James_ \- oh, his eyes remained trained on Hermione like she'd made a chasm open wide and deep in his chest.

Her lips were plump, and as her tongue darted out to moisten them, he felt the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss her.

_Ah, no_. This was his best friend. Fuck's sake, she was also his best friend's sister. These thoughts piled up as he steadied his breath, but they failed to change anything.

It hit him like a bludger to the head then. He loved his best friend. He had irrevocably fallen in love with Hermione Black.

The realization sank deep in the corners of his heart, and his lips tugged up to form a smile. This feeling was euphoric, intoxicating in the kind of way that left his cheeks hurting.

He then took a deep, reassuring breath. In such a moment, where everyone was simply enjoying everything that was going on around them, he couldn't quite help the exhilarating need to simply _hold_ her. To make sure she remained by his side, _safe and healthy and happy_.

_But_ at the same time, this was Hermione he was talking about. She was such a fierce and fiery girl, that he wouldn't put it past her to duel the entire fifth-year Slytherin class and come out as a _winner_.

He'd noticed the not-so-subtle changes in her during DADA, and while thoroughly confused at the sudden improvement, an obvious glimmer of pride ignited inside of him. Especially, after Sirius decided to gather the boys and tell them that they needed to practice more.

The solemnity he'd said it with also didn't escape James, but he didn't question it further. Not until he decided that it needed to be addressed.

Peter's voice broke through his thoughts, just in time for James to hear the question. "How come Pads and Cub didn't look surprised at all?"

Once he'd finally settled in his seat again, Remus glanced over the twins and rolled his eyes with an amused smile. "Well, Hermione was the first one I told. _Sirius_ . . . let's say that he saw me talking to Regulus one night and he just _assumed_."

"Sure you were just talking?" Sirius's face spilt into a grin but on a second note, it fell immediately. He cleared his throat and glanced at Hermione.

"_Anyways_, as Reg's older siblings, it is our duty to inform you that if you _do_ end up winning the little guy's heart — it's going to be hard —," he paused when Hermione slapped his shoulder, "alright, _when_ it happens, make sure you do not break his heart, or else . . ."

Hermione took pity on him. "We'll leave you stranded in London's Metropolitan line. Remember when we almost got lost out there, until Stan finally came to rescue us with the Knight Bus?"

They all shuddered at the memory of the frightening evening spent in the dark, eerie underground line. James was sure he'd gotten a few stares, but not any more catcalls than Hermione had — who had just been _fourteen_ at the time.

Had they not been in a hurry to get home before his mum could find out, the boys would've definitely used their fists on each one of those men. Personally clawed out their eyes, perhaps . . .

He shook his head. That was one thing he did not miss about summer. Why couldn't men simply respect women, no matter what outfit they wore or what their body looked like? Those weren't even factors that should affect their treatment of women.

His jaw set, James focused back on the conversation, though his eyes remained drawn to Hermione like a spell. Was her voice simply too mesmerizing, or did her violent words directed at Remus just sound so perfect to his ears?

Regardless, he watched the scene with an amused grin. Hermione and Sirius had stood up in the mix of their excitement and they seemed to be exclaiming something, trying very hard to sound as serious as his dad was when he got _The Talk_.

He felt overjoyed as each second passed and everything began to sink in. After this confession and the _almost-kiss_ they had earlier, his heart did a funny shuddering thing that left him much more confident than earlier.

James bit down a wide smile and watched as gifts slowly began to pile over him. The boys went first and proved their loyal words true as his eyes dropped on the brand-new broomstick.

"You are _gorgeous_," he told his new _Nimbus 1700_ over Hermione's snort. Once he'd finished gazing down at the beauty for long enough, he took even more Quidditch supplies with open arms - excited at the mere thought of immediately going outside and putting them to use.

Apparently, Hermione was able to read his mind because a laugh slipped past her lips and she gave him a long look. "My gift left, and then you can go chase the love of your life."

Did she mean herself?

"_Quidditch_."

James cleared his throat as his cheeks tinged pink at his previous thought. He gestured vaguely for her to place the gift in his hands, but she held back and tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth. _Fuck_ \- he almost groaned out loud.

"I should explain it first," she began, her posture already resembling Mcgonagall's during one of her usual lectures. "It's complicated magic and I've made one for the rest too—"

"Good for them," he cut her off with a cheeky smile. "I want to see mine, though."

She rolled her eyes and complied, pulling out a Galleon, of all things, from her pocket. He blinked at it and sent his best friend a bemused grin. "Just what I needed, Hermione," he said enthusiastically.

Sirius guffawed. "Hermione, money is—"

"Hush, Sirius," she interrupted him with a glare. "Don't you make any stupid jokes until I finish _explaining_."

"And I'm still _waiting_," Remus enunciated the word with a grin and got his treacle tart stolen by Hermione as a result. Peter had the decency and shrewdness to remain quiet.

"Alright, so I placed a Protean Charm on this coin, allowing us to communicate and the numeral to change accordingly. You will have to hold it and think of what you want to tell me, and _then_," her finger pointed at the coin added to her bracelet, surrounded by the other Animagus charms, "my own coin will warm up."

James's mouth hung open as he reached out to grab the coin from her hands. The Galleon winked back at him with its glint, and he smiled. He shouldn't be surprised by the amazing feat of magic performed by Hermione, but he couldn't help it.

"This is brilliant," he exclaimed, his fist closing in just as he thought of a message. His eyes fixed solely on her; his heart melted at the sight of her.

_You're amazing_.

Hermione looked down at her wrist and she chuckled. Sending him a side glance, she brought the bracelet closer to read the message, but her smile dropped, and she seemed to have frozen entirely.

Maybe, it wasn't such a good idea?

"Oi! What does it say, Hermione?" Sirius hollered from his seat, and at her silence, his eyes then narrowed at James. "What did you send her?"

James's mouth opened and closed several times, and Hermione jumped to his rescue. Or maybe to her own.

"He thanked me for the gift," she hurried to explain, not looking his way once. "Err - right, these are the coins I made for you guys. Make sure to think of the person you want to send the message to, so that it gets sent to the right coin. Your initials will also be automatically added, so that no confusion arises."

Hermione continued to ramble on, even as the boys' eyes remained fixed on their newly received gifts. _Ooh_'s and _ahh_'s spread around the room, and James settled back in his chair, his legs sprawled out as he continued to stare at Hermione in regret.

His timing was definitely cringeworthy, he realized. He should've probably waited to send her that message . . . especially not with _Sirius_ in the room.

James exhaled a deep breath, causing every other head to snap towards him. "Are you okay, Prongs?" Peter questioned. He thought his hand was reaching out to hold his, but it was just to steal his leftover biscuits, instead.

_Fair enough_.

He chuckled. "Don't worry. _Heh_ . . . I think I'd like to take a walk, though. Hermione, do you want to come?"

Her eyes snapped towards him in surprise and she nodded slowly. "Yeah." A smile spread on her face and she continued, "Let's go."

They exited the kitchen with their bellies full, and walked alongside each other in silence, making sharp turns around the hallways whenever they felt like it. A still atmosphere followed them as time ticked by, and his hand brushed against hers in a continuous rhythm.

James felt the coin in his pocket warm up and he halted on his steps. Hesitantly, his eyes moved away from Hermione and landed on the Galleon in his hand.

_Thank you. — H.B._

He bit down a small smile, shaking his head in amusement. "Shouldn't I be thanking you? For the gifts?"

"Yes, well - it doesn't mean I can't thank you for the compliment," she responded airily, walking away from him.

His feet moved on their own and he was again by her side. He couldn't help but watch as her nose twitched. Adorable. "I meant what I said. Actually, no—"

Hermione threw him a glare. "What do you mean no?" she asked incredulously.

"—No, you're not _just_ amazing." He stepped closer to face her and her feet moved back. "You're beautiful, funny, sweet, smart and — _perfect_?"

"Perfect?" she breathed out. Her head hit the wall behind her, and he raised his hand to brush his thumb against her cheekbone. He could feel the rosy warmth spread under his touch, and he bit down an awed smile.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "_Perfect_. I - Hermione, I need to tell you something."

Her eyes flew away from him and he frowned. He opened his mouth to catch her attention once again, but a familiar voice stole the chance from him.

"_Black_, are you aware of the rules or must I call Professor Mcgonagall to make sure you learn about them? As expected, gallivanting around with boys," the voice tsked and then, "Ten points from Gryffindor. And you! Turn around."

He swirled around to be greeted by the sight — quite a sour one — of Lily Evans. He cocked a brow when her emerald eyes widened. She seemed wholly unimpressed. After a moment of silence, the redhead cleared her throat and straightened.

"Very well. Twenty points from Gryffindor." With that, she openly glared at Hermione and walked away, the sight of green long gone.

"Uh," Hermione began as she came back into his view. Her brows scrunched, she tilted her head at him. "Are you okay, James?"

He sighed. "There's _no_ reason why I wouldn't be," he strongly affirmed, so that Hermione wouldn't live in the misunderstanding that he was still affected by Lily's opinion of him.

It stopped mattering to him a long time ago.

She nodded, a hesitant smile on her face. "We should head back."

With that, the spell was broken once again. He chewed on his lip and decided that he could perhaps wait. For the right moment.

The thought still caused another sigh to escape his mouth, and Hermione must've noticed because then, her fingers intertwined with his and they remained that way for the rest of their walk.

* * *

Sirius chugged down his glass of juice, before he leaned closer to stare at the letter. "He invited _you_?" he asked incredulously, poking and prodding at the parchment.

She huffed out a breath and nodded. "It seems that Lucius wants to soak in the summertime heat during his wedding."

Her brother gave her a thoughtful hum. "I wonder why I didn't get invited."

Her brows scrunched, and she gazed around the table to find the rest of the boys mirroring his expression. "Why _would_ they invite you? No offense, but you've never expressed interest in being involved with the Malfoys."

"Yeah," he cleared his throat and rubbed his neck, looking down at her with pinked cheeks. _Embarrassment_? That was new for Sirius, of all people. "I - uh, I guess I haven't yet told you of how I helped find the cure to Abraxas's illness."

A blink, two blinks - well, that was . . . unexpected to say the least. Did she even hear that right? "_What_?"

_Since when is your brother a Healer?_ Granger questioned in her head, mumbling something along the lines of '_damn alternate universes_.'

"Uhm, actually - not really. It was Andy, but I'm the one who begged her to go back to work and find the cure. Since Malfoy seemed to be the very first case, she was able to make the antidote before the illness could develop any further and . . . do things."

"Like kill him," Peter said from the other side, ducking his head when James tried to slap the back of it. "I mean—"

"No, you're right," Hermione said quietly, her eyes fixed on her twin.

_Andromeda_, Granger exclaimed in some all-knowing tone. Hermione simply blinked in a haze, her mind going back to her last meeting with her cousin.

After she'd just given birth to Nymphadora, the Mediwitch had decided to leave St. Mungo's, so that she could take better care of her newborn daughter. It had been a while since then, and to know that she'd decided to come back for . . . for _her_.

She felt tears springing into the corners of her eyes, and she hurried to look down at the bench. "He would've died if it wasn't for Andromeda. If it wasn't for _you _. . . but _why_?"

"Huh?"

Her head snapped up, and her eyes roamed around the face she'd grown up looking at. "Why did you do it? You hate the Malfoys."

_That's what I believed, too_, Granger mumbled.

Sirius set his jaw and his large hands wrapped around hers like a blanket of comfort. "Because I couldn't bear the thought of you losing someone else. I know that in Malfoy, you see what you couldn't see in Father. I couldn't let anything take that from you. Not even an illness."

His silver eyes managed to shine in determination even under the dim morning light, and Hermione couldn't help but immediately wrap her arms around him. She barely restrained the sob that fought to pull away from her mouth. "You're the _best _person on this planet."

Her brother ran soothing motions on her back and sighed into the hug. "That's right, I am!"

"We still don't know why he didn't invite you. Or us, considering that he's willing to train all of us," she heard Remus say, and she pulled away in an instant.

She thought back to what Sirius had said about someone being in debt to him. "Abraxas agreed to help you?" she exclaimed in surprise. "But when are you going to do it?"

Sirius shrugged, popping a piece of bread into his mouth. "He said that he'll send us a letter when we go home. We'll see each other only by Floo, though. So no actual meeting him any time soon."

She settled back in her seat with a hum. "I should talk to him . . . Oh! I should also thank Andromeda and—"

"Slow down, little Cub!" Sirius interrupted her with a bark of laughter. "I already thanked her for both of us. She just wants us to visit her more often in the summer. As for Abraxas, check the bottom of the invitation."

He sent her a long look, till he turned to the boys and urged them to get going, so that they won't be too late for Divination.

She took a deep breath as she watched them go, then her eyes fixed on the worrisome words.

_Just know that he looks more like a monster than he ever did before._

The new image of Voldemort's contorted face formed in her mind, set on not dissolving even as her head banged against the table in frustration.

_How helpful of you, Lucius_, she thought sarcastically.

* * *

"More like a monster . . ." Professor Dumbledore trailed off with a thoughtful look.

She'd risked being late to her Arithmancy class, so that she could inform the Headmaster of Malfoy's new message. It came to her as a surprise when she found Moody pacing around the office.

His agitated look didn't escape her.

The great wizard heaved a long sigh and looked up at her. "I am not sure as to why his appearance would change so drastically, in just a few months."

Moody moved towards the Headmaster's desk and scoffed, looking quite irked. "It will do us no good to wait and find out. Since Black is already late to her class, how about I take her along with me?"

Hermione stilled, sending Professor Dumbledore a puzzled look. _Well _\- the thought of holding back and doing nothing didn't sit well with her, so Moody was right. If they couldn't find out anything else yet, they could, at the very least, grow to be just as powerful. Or whatever Moody had planned for her today.

But . . . she would have to _skip class_. Hesitantly, she watched as the Headmaster argued with Moody for whatever he'd insinuated. "It's too soon for her, Alastor. She needs experience—"

"Which she will only gain if she comes," Moody interrupted with a scowl. "She's powerful and more than ready to fight with us. I won't let you hold her back like a weakling. Get up now!"

Hermione chose to ignore his biting tone, and instead focused on his much nicer words. If Alastor Moody thought she was strong, then that must be it. Not that she wasn't already sure of herself earlier.

Professor Dumbledore finally agreed with his old-time friend, and she gingerly made her way towards her mentor, who continued to eye her rather harshly.

"Lass! Move faster and follow me through the Floo. The Order is waiting for us to check that location and—"

She interrupted him by rushing to the fireplace alongside him; anticipation ignited deep in her bones at the thought of finally doing _something_. She, however, failed to catch any of the Headmaster's foreboding words, telling her of how she must-

_-what_?

Granger's frustrating, shrill voice quite naturally alarmed her. Hermione ought to have paid attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever had that moment at school - or anywhere for that matter - where you instantly regretted not paying attention? Well, Hermione can surely now relate. I hope you enjoy, and if you have a bit of extra time, I'd really, really appreciate hearing what you thought of the chapter, or the story in general. Stay safe!


	47. Official Beginning

**March, 1976.**

Fenwick Manor looked much less crowded than it had on her first visit. Hermione peered at the surprised gazes of the Prewett twins and gave them an awkward wave. "Are we ready to go?"

"Woah! You're . . . coming?" Gideon asked her, though his eyes settled on Moody like he had the answers to all of his questions.

Moody, noticing the curious stares he got for bringing her along, grunted evasively and said, "She is. Scared she's going to do better than you, Prewett?" he challenged, moving to the coffee table and grabbing the parchment that showed the thoroughly listed plan.

Gideon chuckled and he jerked his head at her. "I'm excited! I wanna know if it's worth having a teacher like Moody." He winked when the older man let loose a string of curses. "Welcome to the Order, by the way."

She gave him a small smile, and Fabian immediately protested at the lack of attention _he_ received. An arm now laid around her shoulders, he gave himself an approving nod and said, "I'm even _more_ excited and glad to see you here, little Black. How's your lot doing at Hogwarts? Making us tricksters proud?"

She rolled her eyes and moved away, causing him to stumble at the lack of support. A wicked grin at that, she gave him a casual shrug and moved to peer over Moody's shoulder. "We're doing better than you."

_But I thought you didn't consider yourself a Marauder_, Granger said teasingly, and Hermione bit back a loud retort.

She looked at the plans laid out for today, even though she already knew them by memory; being the mastermind and all. Moody made to jab her with his elbow to take her by surprise, but she'd already been eyeing him with suspicion.

She gingerly whirled around and moved away. "I thought we were in a hurry? What are we waiting for?"

Moody scoffed, but he seemed to agree as he placed an additional wand in his holster. "I was looking over the plans, so that if any of you mess up, I'll be there to fix it up!"

Fabian's face split into a grin and he nodded enthusiastically. "How very sweet of you," he gushed, but the look he received caused him to immediately quiet down. Moody was, after all, still his boss.

"We're apparating, so please," Moody hissed, his gaze sweeping over the trio, "any of you take her to the location. Let's go!"

The older man was gone in a second and once the Prewetts had their hold on her, they soon followed, the tugging in her stomach growing until her feet settled on the new location.

Covered in the Disillusionment Charm, Hermione gazed at the large mansion that covered the large grounds with its imposing presence.

"Enter from the window on the far right," Moody told her from ahead and she immediately nodded, though she knew that he won't be able to see her for some time now. "Twins, you try the one closest to the door on the left."

Silence settled around the dispersed, small group, and she quickened her pace until the window was close enough for her to peer inside. Her eyes fitted around the living room, narrowing at the empty teacups left on the table.

When the address had been inquired about at the Ministry, they'd been informed that it had been inhabited for a long time now. Clearly, the Death Eaters had found the perfect refuge.

Hermione turned the latch and slid the glass up, quickly climbing on the ledge and gingerly stepping foot inside. Thankful for the carpet that made her steps even quieter, her gaze danced around the room to look for new hints as to where the Death Eaters could possibly be.

"Hermione," whispered Gideon from the entrance of the kitchen. She swallowed a panicked sound and after walking towards the vague direction, she waved her hand around to reach out for his arm.

Once her fingers grasped his Auror robes, she asked, "Did you perform the charm?"

"Hominem Revelio tells me there's four more people, excluding us. Moody told me this Disillusionment isn't going to last for long, so we need to check the rooms and find them as quickly as possible."

"I'm checking the ground level," she told him and soon moved away from the spot. Two rooms had already been checked and she could hear soft footsteps from upstairs - unsure of whether they were of her friends or foes.

However, she needed to stick to the plan, which meant remaining in the assigned area of the Manor. She hurried around the library, noticing several Dark Arts books scattered around the floor. A frown set on her face, she moved away and headed towards the small room that was still left.

A step in and she could feel it - the air shift. Her arms chilled at her entrance and before she knew it, another door across the room flew open.

The woman of her nightmares appeared like a painting of misfortune. Terrible, cursed misfortune.

Hermione remained stuck on the spot, even as the woman's nostrils flared at the sight of her. Her dark gaze narrowed till a dreadful cackle came from her. The sound spread like wildfire, and the scar on her arm burned as the memories of Bellatrix rushed into her head.

"Hermione? My, my - what a lovely surprise." She gave her a wide smile then, a full set of bright, white teeth showing even as Hermione's wand pointed in her direction. "To think that we're in the parlour today, too. Like that day . . ."

"You _bitch_," Hermione snarled. Harsh, fierce power loosened in her body, and she sent spell after spell at the shocked woman with no remorse.

"Impedimenta!" she shouted, watching as Bellatrix stumbled back with wide eyes. The woman's face contorted in anger and before one of her sick spells could slip past her lips, Hermione took it upon herself to wordlessly shatter the window by her side and aim the shards at Bellatrix's body. "Oppugno!"

Covered in a Shield Charm, Bellatrix gave out a frustrated screech and vicious eyes glared at her. "You insignificant blood traitor!" The wide, crazy gaze remained on her, and Hermione could barely avoid the _Crucio_ that brushed against her legs.

Her knees hit the carpet and she hurried to stand up once more, her wand thankfully still in her hands. "Expelliarmus!" she tried, but Bellatrix had already moved away from her earlier spot.

The woman strid closer as she talked, "My Lord should've killed you along with that old father of yours! How about our dear, little Sirius?"

Hermione had enough. Her heart boomed in her ears like a bomb that was about to explode, and she wasted no time to activate it. The Scorching Spell instantly left her mouth, and she set her jaw. She could not stop at that, even as she noticed distant voices of the twins closing through the walls.

"Ventus!" she yelled out, despair drowning in her tone at the mere sight of the woman; one that stopped being family a long time ago.

The more Bellatrix tried to avoid her spells, the harder Hermione's next attack became. "Immobulus! Glacius! Flipendo!" Her voice desperately got gradually higher as the memories of that night played in her mind like a tape on a loop that could not be paused.

Not without the fall of Bellatrix Black—no, soon to be _Lestrange_.

She ducked down as a green light emerged from Bellatrix's wand, and she stumbled backwards. "You need to shut up," she breathed out, a numbing sensation spreading in her muscles like wildfire.

She watched as her _Stupefy_ barely missed her cousin, and the woman's eyes widened at the fight Hermione was surprisingly putting up against her.

The door flew open and before she knew it, a masked figure appeared right then, pausing to briefly look at Hermione before harshly taking hold of Bellatrix's arm.

The woman's lips curled at that, but she couldn't do much as both Death Eaters whirled on the spot, apparating away before they could risk getting caught by the other Order members that were nearing.

Hermione's breath left in a whoosh, and she barely caught the worrisome tone of her mentor, when black spots began to invade her vision and she was left with nothing but total darkness.

* * *

Hermione woke up with a start. Letting her Occlumency wall slide down just a little, she asked Granger for some help, but her unconscious was just as clueless as her.

Her elbows braced for body support and she sat up, taking in the cream coloured walls that covered the bedroom. It took her a minute to realize that the picture that hung on the other side was Benjy's. Which meant that this was, obviously, her friend's room.

"Oh, you're awake!" Alessia called from the doorway, and her head snapped towards the woman just as she walked over to the bed. A tray in her hands, she handed her a cup of hot tea with a motherly smile.

A weak grin at the gesture, Hermione said, "Thank you, Mrs. Fenwick. Could you tell me what happened?"

With a shake of her head, Alessia patted the top of her head with a slight frown. "Oh dear, you just passed out due to magical exhaustion. Moody decided that it was best for you to wake up here, before going back to Hogwarts."

"Ah." Hermione nodded to herself. She could tell why it had happened. In hindsight, it had been foolish of her to recklessly throw spells at her cousin all at once. It was definitely not what Moody had taught her, but her emotions had evidently gotten the best of her. "It's my fault."

"It is."

Her eyes flew to the additional figure standing by the door. His hand gripping his cane tightly, Moody wasted no time in narrowing his eyes at her, though his features somewhat softened. "You did well, though. Those Death Eaters surely weren't expecting to be caught up in this."

"Did you catch any of them? Oh, and the woman I was fighting was Bellatrix!" she hurried to inform him, her face almost pleading with him to say the answer she wished the most to hear.

Regrettably, he shook his head with a scowl. "One of them managed to dismantle our Anti-Apparition wards. Bellatrix . . . we have received the order not to arrest her, not until she's caught in the act of something."

Hermione's nostrils flared and she was up in a second, lacing her boots in frustration. Not facing him anymore, she had no trouble in saying, "I guess torturing me and carving me up like a pumpkin is not a crime - according to _you_."

A scoff rang around the room, and she could see Alessia make her way out before things could get any more out of hand.

"Not me, you foolish girl. According to the _Ministry_. What do you think that monster has been doing all these years? Building up political power and connections, that's what!"

Her back straightened and she glared at her mentor. "So what? We're just going to wait for them to slaughter families, so that we can actually punish them for their crimes?"

Moody visibly stiffened and his jaw tightened. "You just assume that I haven't been urging Dumbledore to take action. It's that old man that doesn't listen," he grumbled, rapping his cane against the wooden pavement. "He just dropped another heavy truth on us."

She paused, not liking the discomfort his face twisted with. "Which is?"

"They know about you now," he answered in a harsh tone, his eyes fixed on her like he wanted to make her disappear right then and there. "We were supposed to conceal your identity, your fighting skills and all, but now - that cousin of yours won't hesitate mentioning you to her Lord."

_Fuck_, Granger gasped out uncharacteristically.

"I - that's . . . I am now known among Death Eaters as a—"

"Threat," he finished for her, a grim line on his lips. "A sixteen years old girl has now become a threat to Voldemort. You will only just attract more danger to yourself."

Her chest felt heavy under the realization, and she could only stare helplessly as everything lined up on her shoulders. The tears of Fawkes, her Seer powers, the Prophecy and her fight against the Dark.

It had now officially begun in the eyes of Voldemort.

"I would say let's practice the Patronus, but a Floo call tells me that someone else is here to see you." His Auror robes whirled around just as he turned, gesturing vaguely at someone on the other side to enter.

Long, jet black hair came into view and she faced the very true owner of this bedroom. "_Benjy?_"

Unlike the other times he'd greeted her, he looked serious with not a hint of a grin - _nothing_. His brows were drawn together, and he could only stare at her. "Are you okay?"

She swallowed a lump in her throat at the question. Oh, how curious it was for a simple sentence to hit her heart so strongly. Still, she managed a small smile and shrugged. "Never been better."

They both knew it was a lie.

His head hung low, he could only walk to the end of the mattress and slump down. "My dad told me. I wish it didn't have to be like this."

A bitter grin cracked on her face. "Bet you didn't expect it to be me, right?" She walked over to the desk and sat on it, with permission of course - all so that she could face him. He still didn't raise his head though. "Is it too much for me to say that you mustn't tell Marlene?"

"It isn't. I—" he hesitated, his deep, brown eyes now glittered as he looked at her. "Please, don't tell her about me either. The Order . . . it's the only way I can help and never, do I want to put her in danger if she were to find out."

Heavy burden swam in his tone and Hermione was quite familiar to it, so she found it easy to nod along to what he was saying. "I feel the same way, too. Sirius only found out almost a week ago, but the other boys, Marlene - it's better if they're kept in the dark."

They settled into a heavy silence, each thinking of their own loved ones that depended on how they fought this battle.

And _oh_, they will win this. No matter what it took to make sure of victory.

A familiar, cheery smile then spread on her friend's face. "Well, then. If you're feeling better, let's go back to Hogwarts. I'm pretty sure the boys have gone to Quidditch practice, so they won't ask too many questions."

She couldn't have been any more grateful for the Quidditch season to have started once more.

* * *

It was a few days later, when Hermione walked in on one of the _dumbest_ interactions between the boys, and that said a lot regarding the past years spent with them.

". . . Is there a particular reason why that sock is on fire?"

Everyone, except for James—who laid on his bed peacefully—were standing around a sock, watching it burn on the floor with satisfied looks on their faces. Peter looked somewhat terrified, _regretful_.

Remus was the first one to glance at her. "Potions homework!"

Then Sirius. "What he said."

"I should've just used the Cleaning Charm," Peter grumbled, tossing the poor, blackened sock across the room.

Her brother and best friend immediately went to hush the rat Animagus, looking no more innocent than Slughorn did, fishing her out for Slug Club.

She'd obviously denied him every time, all due to her loathful last name that possessed her to even be invited. Sure, she was an excellent student, but both Sirius and her knew why Slughorn _really_ wanted them to meet his connections at the party.

"Whatever you say," she said dryly, rolling her eyes when the boys hurried off to do whatever else they had in mind. She had imagined that at least, Sirius would be exhausted from practice, but she had apparently been wrong.

The room now quieted down, Hermione tucked her wand in her front pocket and walked over to a certain bed, her eyes falling on the most precious look to existence.

She knelt on the floor and her hands came up to support her face as she gazed ahead. "What have you done to me?" she whispered, having to barely restrain herself from falling asleep right there in his arms.

There was something about James that tugged deep at her soul. Her heart would start to beat uncontrollably every time he leaned close, and the briefest contact from him felt like a healing salve to her every nerve, muscle - her _being_.

His long eyelashes attracted her attention ever so often, and she wondered how they would flutter against her lips as she softly kissed his eyes every time he slept in her arms.

And that mole right on his cheekbone, she-

-what was she even doing?

She had just _daydreamed_ about her best friend, and she didn't even feel like she was done imagining every single thing. There was just _so_ _much_ that called for her attention.

Not to mention his heart; so full of love, so gentle.

James Potter was so _gentle_ that it filled her entire body with warmth, and she wondered what it would feel like to be loved by him.

But then again, why would she need to be loved by him? Not unless she . . . _fancied_ him—

"Oh, hey."

Hermione startled, almost falling on the floor when his fingers latched around her wrist and he pulled her up and close to his chest.

Her lips accidentally grazed against his jaw, and she scrambled to get away - landing somewhat on top of him, instead.

_So much for daydreaming_, she grumbled in her head.

"Hi." Her voice came out as tiny, just as how she felt with his large, warm hands placed right on the arc of her waist as he peered up at her with a lazy smile.

"What a lovely way to wake up." He sent her a wink, his breath hitching slightly when she shifted against his hips. His Adam's apple bobbled, and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips.

"Yeah? Peter usually gets scared at the sight of my hair."

He huffed out a deep laugh, his chest rumbling against her hands. The feel of it - mingled with the wonderful beat of his heart - felt _euphoric_. Something that she would love to get tattooed.

_I am absolutely speechless_, Granger whispered. _Either the magical exhaustion has done something to your head or . . . or you're in love._

Hermione openly laughed at that. Not once did she wonder what James thought of her laughing at literally nothing - according to _him_. She was still going for a few seconds, when she really froze and thought of what Granger had said.

_Love?_ That . . . _thing_ that she'd been wondering what it felt like?

Her amused smile faded like the touch of him underneath her palms, and she pushed herself off him.

_James Potter, of all people!_ Granger continued to rant.


	48. Special Weather

**March, 1976.**

Hermione couldn't believe her eyes. She watched as Slughorn continued his explanation regarding the Everlasting Elixir. He casually mentioned how the substance could allow a potion to last and work _forever_.

To her, however, those words made her ponder for quite a while. She focused on the number of possibilities the elixir posed.

The Wolfsbane Potion.

How come no one had ever thought about this before?

_I'm not sure_, Granger exclaimed, her tone drowning in befuddlement. _It is such a simple idea that no one ever thought to try!_

She gave herself a slow nod, craning her neck to look at the boy next to her. His posture was slouched with the strain of the nearing full moon, and she couldn't help the hopeful surge that swam wild in her bones.

She had spent weeks trying to gather the ingredients through Uncle Alphard's help, and though she had acquired all of them and already made a batch of a week's worth, the idea could still very much work . . .

And as Professor Slughorn went on to introduce yet another potion, Hermione decided that the hypothesis was too precious for her to ignore.

.

"Hermione," the Headmaster began slowly, his tone the kind that had her sag in her seat in disappointment. Now that she thought about it, it had been unreasonable to think that no one would have already tried to do something like this.

"I am baffled yet quite pleased to tell you that such a thing is _possible_," he finally informed her, and a wide grin crept on her face like the sun had appeared right above her.

Just as his words began to sink in, he took off his half-moon glasses and gave her a tired smile. "I'll be more than willing to ask Professor Slughorn for his assistance with both Potions."

"I've already made them! I was done with the Wolfsbane long before," she hurried to tell him, sweat trickling down her forehead just at the reminder of how nerve wracking the whole process had been. However, the boys didn't call her the brightest witch of their age for no reason.

Professor Dumbledore looked pleased with her accomplishment and he nodded. "Very well, Hermione. Am I correct to assume that you've brought them both along with you?"

Without a word, her hands flew to her bag, coming up with two glass phials that were immediately placed on the Headmaster's desk.

The old wizard thoroughly checked them for a great deal of time, which somewhat calmed her worries about having made even just one mistake. The consequences could be disastrous!

"Fantastic," he murmured, pride deep and clear in his tone. "Let's see, shall we?"

She nodded enthusiastically, getting as close as she could to the edge of the desk without toppling over. She gulped down the ball in her throat, her hands clasped together as she watched him pour Wolfsbane in a giant goblet first.

The faint blue smoke remained even when the Everlasting Elixir joined the mix, and Professor Dumbledore gave out a pleased _'ah'_ at the success. He carefully went to pour a bit back into the previous phial, and they watched with bated breaths until the liquid in the goblet filled up again on its own.

They'd done it.

* * *

"I—" _Speechless_, Remus was rendered absolutely speechless.

The other boys could only look on, shocked gazes still trained on the goblet in her hands. "Come on, take it," Hermione urged him, her head tilted quizzically when he didn't make a move.

Suspicion crept in his voice. "This isn't a dream?"

A fond shake of her head and, "No, it isn't. But it will remain one if you don't take it," she ordered softly.

She expelled a loud sigh and set the golden goblet down, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks. She stepped closer when a tear slipped from his eye and trailed down to her thumb.

"How—I . . . Do I deserve this?"

"Of course, you do!" Sirius answered loudly from his bed, a fierce glare on his face at the question. "What you _don't_ deserve is the pain that you have to go through, mate."

Peter nodded continuously and he also hurried to say, "Remus, you are _not_ a monster. You're our best friend."

She turned to look at James, who approached them and placed a hand on the werewolf's shoulder. "You are our best friend, and nothing will ever change that. Brilliant as she is, Hermione managed to find a way to help you, and you deserve every single drop of it, my guy."

And who was Remus to deny all his best friends? The back of his hand went to hastily wipe away his streaked face and he jumped in her and James's embrace, being joined by the other two boys in no time.

They loved the moment. Remus didn't quite like the _taste_.

But it was okay. He still had them, the Marauders.

_You are a great friend, Hermione_, a voice sniffed emotionally in her mind, and she couldn't hold back the tears that came loose at the love she held for her boys.

* * *

Hermione's heart . . . it was beating fast; _oh_, so fast and with no reason, either. Blood rushed to her cheeks and she had to swallow thickly. Her hands almost trembled when she put the note down.

They'd been at it for several classes today. Just like he'd done a few months ago, James had gotten Remus to charm two parchments so that they could write to each other in real time.

Only, now she was getting affected by his attention. _Way_ too much.

Despite her inner protests, her eyes washed over his message once more. Was it the fifth time already?

_You look cute no matter what._

She bet no one had any idea of how badly Hermione wanted to throw her head back and let out a helpless cry because _bloody hell_, there was something wrong with her.

It could very much be love.

She gulped down the loud beat of her heart. She had no time for that. Though, maybe — _maybe_, she _did_ love him, and she did have time for _James Potter_ no matter what, but-

-but she should just write back to him before he decided to drag her to the infirmary.

_Thanks. That sure magically fixes my bad hair days_, she wrote back sarcastically.

That will do, she thought to herself. It sounded normal enough.

Just a chat between two, normal best friends.

Except it wasn't.

Hermione scowled. Her mind had no business being so good at confusing feelings and rational information.

_You realize that you love him, though_, Granger argued with her. Either the woman did not realize how inappropriate it was to be making that argument during class, or —

A reply. She'd just gotten a reply, and she wasted no time in looking at it. Did Professor Flitwick not see how obvious she was being?

_I don't think you realize what my eyes see, princess._

She bit her lip at the butterflies that burst alive in her chest the moment she took in his words.

And that _damn_ nickname of his.

_I'm no princess, Jamsie._

Hermione finally looked up at the front of the classroom, hurrying to write down the points she'd missed. How will she tutor James if she also didn't get all the information?—

Except she needed to stop connecting everything to James.

She looked down once again.

_But you are _ _ **my** _ _ princess, Herms._

She was about to ask him how Sirius was even letting him write that stuff but remembered the way James had cunningly offered to sit next to a certain werewolf for the entire day, instead.

_You're more Slytherin than you let on. Dorea finally has a reason to be proud_, she wrote teasingly, ignoring his previous words.

"No!" she almost immediately heard him whisper out dramatically, and she swallowed down a snicker.

Marlene sent her a curious look, but she gave her a look that meant _'later'_.

_That was mean of you_, he wrote. _I'll get you back for that, or you owe me._

She bit down a fond, almost _excited_ smile.

_Sure thing, little prince_, she wrote thoughtlessly.

.

It was later that evening, when they'd just made their way back after Care of Magical Creatures, that the message actually processed in her head.

The princess and her prince. _Oh_, how she wished that wasn't just a mere piece of her imagination.

* * *

Surprising both Benjy and Hermione, Marlene decided to ditch her boyfriend for a while so that they could have a girl to girl talk.

While she didn't expect it, Hermione accepted the offer with open arms.

She gingerly entered her old dorm, her eyes roaming over to the empty spot that had been once filled with her bed.

Taking advantage of the absence of the other two dorm mates, her lovely friend sent her a beaming smile and patted on her bed, right next to her seat.

With a wide grin, Hermione wasted no time in making herself comfortable and letting out a relaxed sigh. While she enjoyed sharing the space with the Marauders, they _were_ still boys and that meant a lot of mess, brashness, and volume.

A break from all that helped her soothe her headache like nothing else.

"_So_," Marlene began conversationally, patting the top of her head like a gentle aunt would.

Definitely not _Hermione's _aunt.

Granger snorted loudly, despite herself.

"Tell me about the eyes you've been making at James."

Hermione froze, her mouth falling open as her head snapped towards her friend. She couldn't help the tinge of rose that spread all over her cheeks.

Merlin, was she obvious.

"And not just you. James is so obvious, too - _ugh_, sickeningly! I'm pretty sure he's only holding back because he's afraid of Sirius." Marlene laughed; a sound so sweet that helped her calm down somewhat.

"Yeah," she muttered with a chuckle. "_Wait_ \- what are you talking about?"

Marlene rolled her eyes, pursing her lips. "You're just as oblivious as ever, babe. You don't see how his attention is towards you all the time? Don't you blame him for failing his O.W.L.s in a few months, not when you've turned him into such a doting and lovesome boy."

She snorted and crossed her arms. "Fine. Let's say I . . . _love_ him," she began carefully; the words tasted sweet in a way that she hadn't expected, "I still don't see him falling for his best friend of five years."

Marlene gave her a long look.

"Why? You did just the same, didn't you?"

Hermione fell silent at that.

* * *

Hermione had admittedly fallen asleep, and it was her fault for missing their first Quidditch match after so long.

It just had been such a stressful week for her, though! She was all over the space; if not at the Order headquarters, she was with Moody or finishing up her homework as soon as she could. Not to mention all the practice she needed to get done with wandless _and_ non-verbal magic.

And they _did_ just spend the full moon wide awake.

So yes - she fell asleep. Merlin, forgive her, or even just the boys.

Granger tried to soothe her worries. _They'll understand. Yes, it is their very first important game, but oh, well . . ._

_That was definitely very helpful,_ she bit back as she dejectedly watched both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff players make their way back to their changing rooms.

It seemed that the Gryffindors had lost, which only indicated how disheartened her boys were going to be for the next few days.

At that thought, she quickened her pace and rushed to the changing rooms, hoping to also catch Remus and Peter on the way.

The talk grass still felt wet against her ankles, and she knew that rain will only come with no chance of ever stopping.

_I'm pretty sure this is no time to be thinking about the weather_, Granger pointed out awkwardly, and yes, she _was_ right.

But what else could she do, when she ran inside only to find Lily talking to James?

Hermione instantly sprung back and hid against some of the lockers that managed to cover her. Just enough that she could lean her head back and exhale a very long breath without being noticed.

She closed her eyes at the pang of her heart that vibrated painfully in her chest, not getting any better when she finally heard Lily's _irritating_, _bratty_ voice.

"And I'm just wondering what kind of friend would miss a moment like this, you know? You guys lost and she's still nowhere to be seen."

"Damn it, no! Lily—"

"Let me finish. It's almost like she doesn't care about you, James." Her tone sounded so _pitiful_ and yet so _fake_ that Hermione couldn't just stand back in silence.

Her loud scoff echoed around the room and she pushed herself off the locker, walking towards the two with an impassive face.

Lily seemed almost _afraid_ at being found out. Certainly, her demonstrations during DADA hadn't only unnerved most Slytherins.

"Well, why don't you go on? You sure seem to know a lot about me." She sent a wide smile to her best friend, who stared at her with his dark brows knitted together. "Aren't I right?"

By the time she'd turned back to the Prefect, the redhead was rolling her eyes. "I have _no_ interest in getting into trouble because of you, so I'll be leaving," she sniffed indignantly and walked away - just like that.

James sighed heavily as they were left alone in the dimly lit room. The air seemed to freeze around them, and she could only tighten her jaw as she looked back at him. "You listened to her bullshit."

"You didn't come." It came instantly as a reply, James folding his arms across his chest and looking down at her like he couldn't believe this conversation was happening.

She nodded slowly, her gaze sharpening. "Because that matters more, right?"

James let out a groan, running his hands through his hair and tugging at the ends in frustration. "Fuck, _no_, Hermione! Can you stop assuming everything? Let me breathe."

Her nostrils flared in anger, but before she could bite back anything, she noticed Peter trying to leave the room without being noticed. He had a hesitant frown on his face and just as she exclaimed out his name, she grabbed his arm and started to move towards the entrance.

"What are you doing, Cub?" stammered Peter. She refused to say anything in James's presence, but certain words made her halt instantly.

"You can't just leave like that."

James's voice sounded so _crushed_, and though she turned around with a frown, it slid right off at the look on his face.

He was staring at the ground; _defeated_.

That was when she simply paused and thought about it.

They had both been irrational, too stressed for their own good and . . . wrong. Granger agreed that their two distressed personalities had simply just clashed.

A couple of seconds and then-

"I'm—"

"Sorry," she cut him off with a small smile. "I'm sorry."

He rubbed the back of his head and offered her a little, hopeful smile that immediately widened when she ran up to him, and she finally hugged him; as tight as their bond, _unbreakable_.

Peter looked at the two and chuckled. "Right. Sirius is sad as shit, so should we go get him?"

.

Later that night, when Hermione couldn't close her eyes without the sight of Bellatrix greeting her, Granger brought up the fight once again.

_Harry gets like that sometimes, too. He's a sweet boy, but after all the things he's been through . . ._ Granger's voice was so tender that Hermione couldn't help but finally ask who this Harry was.

The woman had once let it slip that her husband's name was Ron, so it was definitely someone else.

_He's my best friend_. Her sigh sounded so heavily in her mind, and when Hermione asked the woman to tell her more about him, she avidly refused. _It's the worst time ever to share the truth. I wouldn't do that to you._

* * *

James watched as Hermione levelled a heavy breath, laying back against the tree that seemed to have become the Marauders' own, personal spot. It was close enough that any of them could quietly gaze at the Black Lake anytime they wanted to.

He gave his best friend a warm smile as he joined her side, his legs straightened on the grass as he patted down his lap. "You look like you could use some rest," he said with a cheeky grin.

She rolled her eyes but gave a thoughtful hum as she eventually laid down to rest her head on his lap.

His fingers automatically went to play with a few curls that always managed to spring out in rebellious directions. He bit back a small laugh, instead letting her peer at him like a curious kitten.

"Hey, James," she began, her caramel eyes reflecting the hesitance in her tone. "Do you think you were in love with Lily?"

James stared at her for a long time, thinking back to the years he'd spent constantly trying to win Lily's attention, like his life depended on it. It did not feel like love - not a fraction of it.

"No," he said in a firm tone. It felt odd to be serious with her, but that was how she was. She managed to bring out every version of him, from funny to - well, _lovesick_. Absolutely melted in his love for her. "Love is something entirely else."

He felt Hermione tense. "And how do you know?"

His finger bopped her cute, little nose and he watched as she scrunched it up in annoyance. "I am just wise like that, Miss Black" he mimicked the solemn tone Dumbledore always seemed to use, and her laugh vibrated against his legs.

The _feel_, the _touch_, the _sound_ of it felt perfect. Would it be possible to get them all tattooed?

He'd heard Sirius mention how much he wanted a whole bunch, though he doubted that the eldest Black would let James get one, if he ever were to find out the true meaning behind it.

Hermione's whole mood seemed to have brightened, and he could clearly see how hard she was trying to fight back a wide grin.

"What's got you so happy?" he murmured, leaning closer to her face to feel her temperature with the back of his hand. While her cheeks continued to colour as he inched closer, her forehead didn't feel too hot to him. "Nope, not sick." He grinned, pulling away.

She huffed out a breath, her eyelashes fluttering as she peered up at him. "You should be happy, too. We're going home for break," she said distractedly, only to chuckle when a drop of water trailed down his cheek.

His head snapped up and he finally noticed the grey clouds that were looming over them, getting more and more threatening as the droplets multiplied.

He hurried to get up, his hand already in front of Hermione's face to help her up. A grin at the gesture that he'd continuously made for over five years now, she held his hand in a firm grip - not letting go even as the rain poured down on them.

His eyes caught the sight of her white shirt and he immediately averted his gaze, his hands shrugging off his denim jacket.

She opened her arms with a wide smile, urging him to help her wear it. With a roll of his eyes that betrayed the soar of his heart, he followed the order and though he told himself not to look, he took his sweet time buttoning the jacket.

Hermione's hand came up to ruffle his wet hair, but he batted it away before she could even dare to try. "_Nope_, none of that. We are going back inside!"

He began to sprint towards the large entrance but as he turned around to check if Hermione was following close behind, he found her in the middle of the grounds, her eyes closed and arms opened wide as she swirled around continuously.

A sound - almost sort of a _whine_ \- came out of his throat at the simple, breathtaking beauty in front of his eyes. With such a relaxed look on her face, her rosy cheeks and now darker chestnut hair made his heart race; his jacket looking _so_ _big_ on her small form with a light blue, billowing skirt that resembled how he felt.

Deeply in love.

He walked and walked until she stood right in front of him, her arms hitting his shoulders as she whirled around with a lovely laugh. A sound so melodic that made it even harder for him to speak up.

"You'll seriously get sick again," was what finally came out of his dry throat, his voice so raspy and deep that he had to laugh at her a few times to clear it.

She finally stopped and opened her eyes to look at him. Her beautiful eyes roamed over his concerned face and she gave him a reassuring - _Merlin_, such a beaming smile.

"It still feels great, doesn't it? Don't lie," she threatened, though she looked anything but precious as she sighed into the warm rain that showered over them.

His gaze followed the rain drops that touched her warm, rosy cheeks and before he knew it, he cupped her face and expelled a soft sigh. One step closer and, "It does," he whispered, his thumb brushing against the delicate, wet skin as he watched her tongue dart out to lick a drop on her lips.

His heart stopped, only for it to start again - this time louder, _fiercer_. Their chest rose in a similar rhythm and before he knew it, she had also taken a step closer.

He didn't find it in himself to hold back.

"I like this. I like _you_, Hermione."

His heart thudded in his ears so loud that he thought perhaps he hadn't said those words. But her lips fell apart soundlessly, and her teeth went to tug her bottom lip, pulling it away with a shade of red that he could no longer ignore.

"I guess there's a way to make this even better." He groaned, and the string that had attached itself around them only got tighter.

James touched his mouth to hers, pressing gently. His eyes fluttered close as he felt her soft, warm lips dipped in rain drops, the touch of her moving in tandem with his. There was a slow pulse to their kiss. He couldn't pull away no matter how hard he tried.

It was as though a dam had now been broken, years of barely restrained attraction taking over. They danced in the touch of the other as her hands rested on his shoulders and his fingers tightened over the edge of her cheekbones as though his life depended on it.

And it did. It very much did.

Their hold around each other loosened, and before he could explore every part of her mouth, she pulled away. All he could hear was the thud of his heartbeat and her erratic breathing.

He hadn't messed up, had he?

"Tell me, Hermione," he whispered, staring at her unreadable expression. "Should I confess again or apologize?"

Hermione stepped back, her lips trembling. "I like you, James." Her voice sounded crushed and he suddenly couldn't tell if her face was streaked with rain or her tears. "But we can't do this."

The beat of his heart that he had so clearly heard in his ears suddenly turned into a ringing; sharp as he took in her words.

He quietly pulled off his glasses, his fingers darting through his wet curls. Maybe if he didn't see her, he could believe that none of this had happened.

"I can't. I . . . have too much going on."

"Hermione, what are you talking about?" he argued softly, his brows drawn together as he tried to figure everything out. "Maybe, I can help you and—"

A hesitant voice hollered at them from the entrance. "Shit—guys! The train's about to leave."

His fingers went to latch around her wrist, but she put her hand out to stop him, stepping back further. So, he tried a shadow of a strained smile, instead. "I apologize."

James watched dejectedly at her retreating back, her pace quickening at each step she took towards the entrance.

He could only drop his eyes when Remus sent him a panicked look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What about me? Should I say you're welcome or apologize?


	49. Unexpected

**March, 1976.**

James should've brought her tulips.

_No_. He doubted anything would've made her response turn out to be any different. Him and Hermione simultaneously heaved a heavy breath for what felt like the umpteenth time, causing Sirius to tense beside him.

James shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He should've also sat anywhere but near Sirius, but his head was clearly somewhere else.

It was _all over_ the place: _the kiss, her words, the kiss, her words, the—_

"Anything from the trolley?"

"Kiss," he blurted out, a panicked slap over his mouth as he sent the horrified Trolley witch an apologetic look. "I'm sorry!"

The old woman continued to eye him warily until Sirius came to his rescue. "Right . . . err, Chocolate Frogs, please."

"And Pumpkin Pasties," Peter piped in. "Remus? Hermione?"

"Cauldron Cakes, please," Remus said calmly with a polite smile, while Hermione simply shook her head.

Not that he was looking.

After Sirius paid for all the treats, much to the werewolf's chagrin, he slid the door shut with a loud thud and narrowed his eyes at him.

James let out a nervous laugh. "Must be those magazines we've been reading," he tried, but that only seemed to agitate the other boy even more.

"We're not supposed to talk about them in front of her!" His finger snapped to point at Hermione, but he refused to follow his trail of sight.

He rubbed the back of his neck, and he simply shrugged. "My mind's all over the place," he murmured, chancing a glance at the guys.

While Peter and Sirius were letting it slide and telling him to go take a nap or something, Remus Lupin was not one he could avoid for long.

Especially since it seemed like he'd seen at least a few seconds of the kiss.

_The kiss._

He dragged his beanie down, letting it cover half of his face as he facepalmed himself.

He was an idiot.

* * *

At the time, it had all felt heavenly. Before Hermione could even rejoice or even properly process his confession, James Potter had kissed her.

Except, she realized something immediately — she wasn't supposed to _have_ this.

She had responsibilities, missions to complete, lives at stake—

She couldn't have any of this. So, with her heart crushed heavily in her chest, she had pulled away from him with the kindest words her mind could muster up at the time.

And now, she could only watch and follow the boys with a pained look on her face, both her heart and a part of her mind urging her to do nothing but run up to him and hug him with a bone crushing embrace.

Granger stayed quiet, so she assumed that the woman agreed with her. Though, she wasn't so sure anymore.

At this point, she wasn't sure about anything.

She greeted Dorea with a wide smile, and the woman wasted no time wrapping her arms around her. "It's so good to see you," Dorea breathed out as she pulled back, a usual motherly smile on her face as she looked at each one of the boys.

"What about me?" Sirius pouted, getting his head whacked by James, who shook his head sagely.

"Be grateful, my dear mate, that our lovely mum and dad have told the house elves to cook _your_ favourites tonight," he grumbled, getting amused chuckles from around the group as a response.

Hermione and Sirius looked at the Potters in utter silence, their confusion surely etched on their face. "_Our?_"

It was then that Charlus spoke up. He placed his large hands on both twins' shoulders, and said, "Well, you are our kids too, are you not? Being the smartest witch you are, Hermione, I would've thought that much was obvious. Now, I didn't expect much from Sirius," he said teasingly, getting a loud "_Hey!_" from her brother.

Dorea took it from there with a warm smile. "But it is a given that you're our kids, after the breaks you've spent at our house. If you get in trouble for sneaking out just like James does, you also deserve the same amount of love from us."

It felt like time had stopped for her, where she simply reached for Sirius's hand and let everything sink in. Memories of Walburga rushed into her head before they faded, and she saw much clearer images of the moments spent with the Potters.

She wondered how her father would've reacted if he were to see this.

_He would be so glad for you both_, Granger eagerly told her.

Sirius stayed quiet by her side, his fingers tightening around her hand as she spoke for the both of them. "Thank you so much." She strained to keep her voice from trembling, and she couldn't utter a single word when Charlus asked if she was staying with them during the break.

After what had happened with James, surely he wouldn't want her there—

"Of course, she's staying with us. Now if Remus and Peter could stay, it would've been great, too. You're still visiting though, are you not?"

James's voice faded, and a certain realization crept through her mind like an autumn leaf inevitably falling in silence: it was beginning to rain once again.

* * *

"_Knock, knock_," Hermione heard from the other side of the door and though Sirius couldn't see her, she still rolled her eyes at him.

She continued to tie her boot's laces. "Come in."

The doorknob turned, revealing her brother walking in with a goofy grin and his hands stuck in the pockets of his jeans. "Your favourite boy is here," he sang as he slumped on the chair by the desk.

She pouted, looking around the room. "I don't see Regulus anywhere," she joked, though the tense silence that followed mirrored the worry they felt at leaving their younger brother at Hogwarts.

For how long will they have to act like strangers?

Sirius cleared his throat, a strained offended look on his face. "For that, I'll get you back! But for _now_, dinner is ready." He sounded almost giddy at the thought of his favourite food, and to not keep him waiting any longer, she looked at the time and relented.

She could stay back for dinner.

"Let's go, young brother," she said as she stood on her tip toes and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. She struggled to walk alongside, and he laughed at that, but she kept her stride confident with a lopsided grin.

She could finally hear the rustling of the house elves in the kitchens, even over her brother's loud voice. "And I am not _young_," he said indignantly.

"So you'd rather be old and crusty?" She wrinkled her nose at him, getting back a playful glare. He went to jab his elbow at her, but she swiftly avoided it and _tsked_.

"Who are you calling old and crusty?" Charlus called from his seat at the dining table, and she hurried to sit in front of Dorea, letting her brother sit by her side.

She was glad she didn't have to face a certain boy . . .

Hermione cleared her throat. "Who else could it be? It's Sirius," she said in her all-knowing tone, and Charlus was off with a booming laugh.

He aimed his fork at Sirius and eyed him mirthfully. "Be careful, Sirius. Not many get to look as good as me in old age."

Her brother snorted, much more focused on shoving down the vegetables on his plate, so that he could soon have the satisfaction of having steak in his mouth.

Surely, _she_ should be the one hurrying to get done. However, she made herself comfortable and ate at her own pace, listening to Dorea as she talked about her old days at Hogwarts.

"I fell in love with Charlus around your age. Such a sweet boy he was back then . . ."

"_Was?_" the older man cried out in a wounded voice, in turn being reprimanded for his volume at the table.

A small smile plastered on her face, she could barely fight the urge that had her wanting to keep her gaze pinned on James - the same boy who had yet to raise his eyes from his plate.

"Prongs, wanna fly after this?"

From the corner of her eyes, she could see him shrug casually. "That's fine by me, mate," he said, his voice sounding awfully tired.

Her heart caved itself in pain and yearning, leaving her to set her fork down before the lump in her throat could grow any further.

"I think I should take my leave," she informed the Potters politely, the plate in her hands snatched out instantly by Mipsy as soon as she got up.

That seemed to catch James's attention, because he blurted out, "Where are you going?"

Heat crept up on her face at the pair of hazel eyes now fixed on her. _Don't think about the kiss—_

She made the mistake of meeting his eye and coughed into her fist. "Malfoy manor. I promised Abraxas that I'll go see him soon," she told him, though her eyes were averted midway and pinned on the chandelier that hung in the living room.

Very spectacular - _yes_.

"Boys, how about you go with her?" Dorea suggested, her voice calm as she looked at her brother questioningly.

Eager to learn what Hermione had _really_ planned, Sirius nodded vigorously. "I shall protect my young sister from the dark secrets of this world."

Charlus ignored his words and instead focused on his son. "James, what do you think?"

The youngest Potter's eyes widened, and he raked his hand through his hair, messing it. "I - yes, I don't mind going along," he stammered, chair already pushed back by the time he'd finished talking.

She fiddled with the bracelet wrapped around her wrist, taking her sweet time to run circles around the stag charm. "Let's go then," she murmured quietly, highly aware of the warmth of his presence even though he was so far away from her.

There was a thread, wasn't there? Playing with them both as though they were puppets.

Granger snorted.

* * *

Malfoy manor smelled and looked like it always did; extravagant and expensive. Her boots hit the marbled floor in small, soft clicks as Abraxas came into view.

The older wizard looked much healthier now. His face had gained the usual colour and he had a rather kind smile on his face; something rare for a Malfoy.

Her smile widened until her cheeks began to hurt, and before she knew it, she'd crossed the little distance so that she could get him to hear her. She didn't have it in her to be loud as her throat burned at unshed tears. "Abraxas," she exclaimed in a soft tone. "What a _surprise_ to see you standing."

"Trust me. I am rather shocked myself," he admitted wittily, his wrinkles showing further as he frowned at the boys behind her. "Good to see you too, I suppose."

"Saved your life, and this is what we get!" Sirius scoffed loudly.

"It was Andromeda Tonks that saved my Father," a smooth voice interjected, and she was met with the _very_ tall appearance of Lucius, who eyed her rather warmly compared to last time.

To think that she'd been admittedly frightened by him back then.

Hermione let out a loud whistle, eyeing his formal, black robes up and down. "Practicing how to be a posh husband, huh? I would love some tea, thank you very much."

"Watch your tongue," he hissed, taking one step closer to her in a threatening stance.

She had to bite back a loud laugh.

"_Woah—_" She was pulled back, arm slinging gently over her shoulders as she turned to look at James's very obvious, protective expression. "I believe there is no need to fight," he said calmly, a charming smile on his face.

"Indeed, young Mr. Potter is right. How about we move this conversation to the study room, Hermione? Lucius, please, do take care of our guests." He gestured for her to follow him and she eagerly complied. A study room? There was a big chance that she could also get to check out a few books!

"Black, you _can't_ just grab that vase and transfigure it into a broom, no—"

She was sure Malfoy could handle the Marauders for a while.

.

Hermione was led to the farthest room in the hallway, allowing Abraxas to open the door and let her focus on her surroundings. It was a rather minimalistic, large study room with a few shelves, a drawer, and a big desk right in front of her.

_Was a couch really needed though?_ Granger commented, and Hermione shook her head in amusement. Sirius would've fallen asleep on it if Hogwarts's library had one.

She descended the couple of stairs and slid down the shiny tiles with ease, looking back at Abraxas with a pleased smile. "I'm in love with this place!" she exclaimed. "I can't imagine what your _library_ looks like."

A rueful smile on his face, he simply chuckled. "You're more than welcome to come see it anytime. Now, tell me what you have planned so far. After the last time you visited, you seemed rather frightened in regards of being the—"

"Chosen One," she said, her lips immediately twisted down at the reminder. "I'm stronger than earlier, that's for sure. As for what we've planned to defeat him, there are some people who still think we must wait." Her tone was pointed, and she hoped Granger got the jab that was aimed at her.

Granger sighed. _Loud and clear, Hermione. Take this matter to Dumbledore._

"Oh, I will," she murmured, causing Abraxas to look at her in confusion.

"Hmm?"

She shook her head distractedly, her mind elsewhere. "Abraxas . . . do you know how to cast the Patronus charm?" she asked curiously, peering at him with wide eyes.

The older man sighed heavily, his expression twisting with sorrow. Oh, was she familiar with it. "Indeed, I do. It has been a while since I last tried - after my wife, Alexandra, left this world."

A blink and she hurried to apologize. "I'm sorry," she made sure to tell him, looking down for a moment. "I've just been struggling with it during training and I thought . . ."

"That I could help you?" He laughed shortly and walked up to her, patting her shoulder in a rather patronizing move. Or was it fatherly? His smile surely looked like how a father would smile. "I can try my best, little Black, but it's all up to you."

She gave him a determined nod. "I'm ready," she said in a loud and firm tone, like she would've done if Moody had been in the room.

"You need to think of a memory. You know, Hermione, it doesn't really have to be happy. That's something rather interesting about memories. While they may bring gloom to you now, you have to think of how you felt at the time."

His melancholic tone faded as she closed her eyes and focused on the darkness that enveloped her sight. A deep breath and she could feel it, the touch of the rain and-

-and _James Potter_.

She watched as he stepped closer, hesitant but determined all the same. His eyes were fixed on her with a smoldering fire, his confession at his lips and soon on hers too, as he kissed her gently.

_'Should I confess again or apologize?'_

_'Confess again.'_

Her eyes flashed open. "Expecto Patronum!" she cried out, her eyes fixed on her wand as a flash of blue burst out and it focused on the form of a small stag.

A bloody _stag_.

Hermione stumbled back in shock, the animal continuing to follow her with a jump at its steps. Her wand slipped out of her hands and on the floor with a _clank_, the image of her Patronus instantly dissolving.

"Is it not what you expected?"

His voice was quiet, but she still heard it over the ringing in her ears. She harshly pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, a deep breath before she said, "I should have expected it. I - is it selfish of me, Abraxas?"

Abraxas noted the tremor in her voice and he immediately called for her to sit on the black couch, a deep frown on his face. "What's bothering your heart, dear?"

Words lodged in her mouth, unable to fathom if a Malfoy should really be the first person to know about her first love.

_No_, Granger muttered.

"I like James too much," the words stumbled out of her mouth like a fire that had spread too far, her chest burning at the confession. "And he kissed me, told me he likes me."

He caught the change in her tone. "But?"

"But I ran away like a coward, telling him of how I had too much going on to accept anything of this kind." Her hands went up to her hair, her curls falling in her grasp as a scoff rang out around the room.

Her head whirled up at that. Abraxas seemed rather disappointed in her. "What is with you Gryffindors and noble acts? Did he _say_ that he wouldn't take the risk to be with you?"

Her mouth hung open and she snapped it shut. "He doesn't really know anything—" she stammered, watching Abraxas's expression shift into one of disbelief.

"All this gossip about the Marauders' bond and you still keep secrets?" he tutted, though his voice somewhat turned gentle. "It isn't selfish of you to want to be with your love. What is selfish is to make a decision for the _both_ of you."

She dragged her eyes away from him and shook her head defiantly. "It's to protect him. All of them, really."

There was a pause, and the silence stretched between them, until a _'pop'_ rang around the room and Dobby appeared in front of them in all his glory. He bowed his head at Abraxas and squeaked, "Master Sirius be asking for your presence."

Abraxas nodded with a roll of his eyes and stood up. "Let's see what your brother has to say," he muttered, following Dobby as the house elf led the way to her twin.

Hermione remained settled on the couch for a few more seconds, getting up with the intention to follow him when Granger interjected in a quiet voice.

"What is it?" she wondered out loud.

_Check the drawer in this room_, Granger urged her, despite her complaints about how disrespectful it would be to do that. _Just do it, Hermione. It's about Voldemort and his secret._

Curiosity piqued and with a knitted brow, she glanced back at the doorway before striding towards the black, wooden drawer. Her fingers wrapped around the rough knob and she pulled it open, her head tilting down to check if anything was there.

"There's nothing," she murmured.

_How is this possible?_ Granger stressed out, her voice drowned in worry. _Do we have to wait?_

She stood back up, whirling around to find Lucius standing back in the doorway, his brow arched at her. "Black," he greeted her begrudgingly, a not-really frown at his lips. "I hate to ask but my Father has rather forced me to, so - can I help you?"

Hermione just stared at him. He shifted on his feet with a dark scowl.

_Can he help us? _she asked Granger in her mind.

Granger hesitated before finally relenting. _Ask him if he was assigned anything by Voldemort._

She voiced the question warily, watching with a roll of her eyes when he flinched at the name and glared at her. "_He_ has given me nothing," he hissed. He seemed to calm down as he surveyed her with pursed lips. "Though, he recently seems to be very angered by a certain performance of yours . . ."

Her lips pressed into a firm line at the reminder of her encounter with Bellatrix, and she simply arched back a brow at him.

_Do I ask him anything else?_

Granger seemed to be going through a stressed deal of time, as she continued to mutter, _Just - just ignore whatever I said._

Hermione quietly slipped out of the study alongside Lucius. Something was definitely amiss, and Granger was trying to hide it rather poorly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All comments and kudos are highly appreciated. Also, I have good news! I finally have a proper outline for this story down to the very last chapter. But don't worry, there's quite some time until that.
> 
> However, something big is happening very soon, so be prepared for that! I'm still not sure when I will post the next chapter, as I'm not done revising it just yet.


	50. Firewhiskey

**April, 1976.**

It was disconcerting. Hermione could feel the sharp, cold touch around her neck even as her eyes snapped open, bleary lids forced to remain open as she glanced at the door.

One day of break and she'd already forgotten to wake up early for her exercise. A small groan slipped out of her mouth when the incessant knocking didn't stop, and she sat up instantly. "Come in."

The door opened, Dorea's head butting in hesitantly before she fully appeared, a grimace twisted at her lips.

"Good morning, dear."

She tried to smile, but her expression made it rather hard not to look concerned. "Good morning. Is there something wrong, Mo—I mean, Dorea?"

The question out of her mouth, she'd already grabbed her wand that rested beneath her pillow all night. She took off her blanket and stood up, only to look back and find Dorea standing there, her eyes glittered with tears at her slip up.

The woman shook her head as though to come back to reality and assured her that nothing of _that_ sort was wrong. "I've just forgotten to inform you of the ball we're having tonight!"

A blink and then, "A ball?" she squeaked, shaking her head and hoping that she will be able to wake up from the dream. "I have a stomach ache. I think I'll be resting all day—"

She tried to lie her way out of it, but there was no way she could've fooled a former Slytherin like Dorea Potter. The woman arched a pointed brow at her and shook her head fondly. "It will do you some good to attend, Hermione. Think of it as an excuse to enjoy your youth."

She bit down a bitter 'what youth?', instead relenting warily. "What is this ball about? We've never had it before."

Dorea walked towards her with her arms folded across her chest, a rueful smile at her lips. "I suppose the Ministry couldn't find any safer hosts for the charity party they were planning. With You-Know-Who still around, they thought to ask us, and we gladly accepted."

She nodded slowly, wondering if she had any chance to sleep in for the day. "We don't have to go shopping today, do we?" she asked, eyes wide open at the amused witch, who simply shook her head.

"Now, I knew how _pleased_ you'd be to hear about the ball, so I decided you could stay home for the day and rest before it happens. The dress . . . I was thinking that perhaps you could borrow one of mine?" she sounded hopeful, trying hard to keep her smile from widening.

Hermione wasted no time in agreeing. "Of course. I _am_ a bit nervous over what you might've planned but—"

"Nonsense." The woman gave her a bashful smile and batted away her hand casually.

Hermione wasn't sure if it was meant to be reassuring, considering that this was the move James did before getting into trouble. "If there's anyone you can trust, it's Dorea Potter."

* * *

For the rest of the day, Hermione had kept herself busy by performing the Patronus charm numerous times in secret. She had thought to show it to Sirius, but the moment she'd remembered its form, she'd decided that perhaps it was best to wait.

The boys had most probably kept themselves busy with flying and DADA practice, considering how they'd stopped coming to bother her after the fifth time that day.

Not that she had been on the edge all day, waiting once again for James to be at her door with his usual, charming smile and gentle aura.

She looked back at the mirror once more, finding herself rather surprised with the way Dorea had managed to tame her curls. Though the woman had refused to straighten them—saying how it was one of her most beautiful features—she managed to make them look more voluminous, a soft wild just like her.

Her chair screeched as she rose, her eyes moving away from her red lipstick to the dress that she had been handed rather enthusiastically. She'd been hesitant at first, but Godric did she look amazing.

_Of course, you do! _Granger exclaimed.

The floor length, black gown had a high waisted drawstring that settled right below her chest — which already called for attention through the low front V neckline. It was one of the main things that had her worried when she'd first seen the piece, but both Dorea and Granger had assured her that she had nothing to be nervous about.

She pulled her wand up to her wide cuffed, long sleeves and stuck it to the holster that she'd latched around her arm and under the dress.

_Constant vigilance_, she thought and nodded to herself on the mirror once before she heard Sirius call for her to come out already.

A roll of eyes and her heels clicked against the pavement as she pulled the door open and looked straight at Sirius, narrowing her eyes at him. "It's the first time I've ever taken longer than you to get ready. You should be patient," she told him, and he grinned wryly.

"I have yet to find a proper reason to be patient," he drawled in a cheeky tone, and she resisted the urge to mess up his hair.

Instead, she patted down a flyaway strand on his head and noted, "That must've taken a lot of time."

He shrugged, trying to avoid her hands at all costs. "Yes, yes - don't mess it up!" he complained loudly.

"I wasn't ruining it," she insisted as she followed him down to the main hall. "You're acting just like James . . ."

Her throat turned dry at the thought of him, and her heart stuttered at the memory of his kiss. Now was not the time—

"Speaking of James," Sirius began, his shoulder bumping against hers to catch her attention. "Look."

.

This break didn't end up being as good as James had hoped. He had planned to spend as much time with Hermione as he could, but his actions had fucked him up to the moon.

Now, he was left nodding along to whatever Remus was saying, the werewolf insisting that he should've _waited_.

"I know that already," James hissed, allowing Peter in on the secret. His best friend had promised that he wouldn't tell Sirius, and he trusted him. "But I don't see what's the point of regretting the kiss anymore. It was the best—"

"I get it," Remus grimaced as he cut him off.

They listened to the numerous house elves at the entrance as they greeted Remus and Peter, while they simply smiled brightly at James - having already seen him all day at home.

The group walked towards the ball room and just as he began to step down on a small staircase, his eyes snapped forward and stopped at a certain sight.

_Perfection_.

There was no way he could describe her beauty. Words could never do justice to how magnificent she looked, her curls wild and her red lipstick catching his attention almost immediately as she talked to Sirius.

His eyes dragged down _oh_, so slowly to her cleavage, the way her gown still managed to show the lovely curves she possessed and he was simply _enchanted_, stumbling on the staircase and falling on a few steps when she turned to look at him and her eyes caught his.

A strand of hair fell over her cheek and he wanted nothing more than to just walk up to her and tuck it behind her ears, possibly even give her a peck on the soft, rosy skin of her cheeks.

Peter helped him up, and he didn't realize why it felt like such an agonizing eternity to cut the distance between him and Hermione.

One more step and he was surrounded by the sweet fragrance that always came with her presence. He swallowed, before finally looking at Sirius, who was still laughing over his stumble back there.

"Are you okay, mate?" Sirius chuckled, and James shook his head.

He looked back at Hermione and decided that _no_, he was _not_ okay. She averted her eyes and before he could ask to finally speak with her in private, a young man joined them with a charming smile.

"Miss Black, there you are," he said in a deep, baritone voice. A slow smirk formed on his lips, and James wondered why the accent felt so different.

Hermione eyed him with surprise. "I'm sorry — do I know you?"

"Not yet, _ah_." He chuckled to himself, as though he had a secret joke that he hadn't let others on yet. "You see, I was aware that you lived here, and when I heard that the Ministry was holding the party here, I just _had_ to come. I've heard a number of praises at work regarding your grades."

Rather flustered at his words, her face flushed red, and she chuckled nervously. "Yes, well," she stammered, looking back at the Marauders for assistance. They were mostly eyeing the man rather threateningly for even _talking_ to her.

Including James, who looked seconds away from knocking the man out.

Not that Hermione was eager to see his reaction. No, not at all.

Realizing that she wasn't going to be doing much talking, the man spoke up once more. "I would be honoured to have a dance with you." He then turned to look at Sirius, staring straight at him with his dark eyes. "If it's fine with you."

A glare at Sirius—who had his mouth open to say something—she hurried to pointedly say, "Of course, it's fine. Let's leave these boys alone."

She moved alongside the man, craning her neck to look back at the boys and wink. Dorea _did_ say to enjoy the evening, so she might, as well.

. . . But by making James Potter jealous? It didn't feel right.

_There's something about him that seems familiar_, Granger mumbled.

* * *

James took his glass of Firewhiskey along with him. He had yet to try it, but after seeing that stranger lay his hands on Hermione's waist, he couldn't take it anymore.

Of course, he had no right to separate them, but it _hurt_. It hurt to the point he realized that there was no need to stay at the ball. He moved past Sirius's bedroom and before he could do the same with Hermione's, he found the door open, her standing in the middle of the room - her wand in hand as she called out her Patronus—how could she even _cast_ it?—and . . .

A _stag_.

He struggled to keep the glass in his hands, his wide eyes settled on the Patronus that jumped around Hermione. She seemed to be fighting a smile at the sight, desperate to reach out for one of the antlers, until his feet moved on his own and he entered the room.

He shut the door with the back of his foot, his attention still on Hermione as she silently dissolved the Patronus, staring back at him intensely.

"That looks like Prongs," he breathed out, a lump in his throat that only grew further as she now avoided his eyes. He put his glass down on the desk. "Right?"

She took her heels off, her bare feet moving towards the window that let her admire the silver stars dispersed on the night sky. "Yes."

He followed her instantly. "I know what this means, Hermione." They may not have yet discussed it in class, but only a fool would not know of the meaning of this. He watched as her back tensed and she still didn't turn around to look at him.

"Then there's nothing for me to say," she argued, her hands clenching in a way that he knew that she was frustrated - but with _herself_.

One big stride and he turned her around, his hands on her hips as he looked at her carefully. "There is. We kissed, I apologized and you are still avoiding me, Hermione," he said, his tone lacked the frustration he truly felt at their situation.

She refused to look at him. "I don't think I am," she muttered, though her eye twitched when he let out a small scoff.

"I'm not stupid, Hermione," he snapped. "If you don't like me, I will never force you to—"

She shifted and moved her face very near to his, running her thumb down one side of his face.

"You don't have to," she whispered hoarsely, her voice so low that he probably wouldn't have heard it if it weren't for the movement of her lips that caught his attention. She finally looked up at him and smiled wobbly, "You don't have to force me to."

His mouth hung open. He blinked several times, his nerves leading to tighten his grip on her waist. "What are you talking about?" he tried to keep his tone neutral, not allowing him to let her know how desperately he—

She stood on her tiptoes, her hands coming up to cup his face. He inhaled sharply when her thumb brushed against his skin, and she pressed her soft lips on the side of his jaw. "I like you too much already."

He stood there, unable to do anything as she then moved back for a second to look at him properly. He stared at her eyes; golden flecks in sweet caramel that symbolized her warm heart, full of love.

She leaned in once again, yet another kiss placed on the other side of his face. He wondered if her soft, red lips could feel the way his jaw tightened at the touch. "But I have to protect you."

He was left in a stupor for a few seconds, where he simply stood there and watched as she removed his hands from her waist and moved around him - no longer allowing her hot breath to hit against his skin.

This was no time for any second guessing.

He whirled around and before she could move any further, a gentle hand wrapped over her heartbeat and he pulled her softly, her back hitting his chest with a gasp.

Her pulse quickened beneath his fingertips, and he smiled. He knew what to do now—how to catch her attention. "You know, Hermione. If I really needed anyone to protect me, I could've gone to the Aurors, or perhaps _Lily—_"

The reaction was instant. She pushed his arm away and turned back around, her glare fierce as her mouth eagerly pressed against his. This was nothing like their first kiss. That one had been soft and gentle, but this one was strong, needy with a thirst that could never be sated.

His tongue pressed for entrance and she complied, her back hitting the wall as she pressed flush against him, killing whatever distance that still separated them.

His teeth found her bottom lip and pulled it into his mouth so he could swipe his tongue over it. She allowed her lip to follow his lead and steal his own _lip, breath, sanity._

There was no turning back from this.

They pulled back and gasped for breath. One look at the other, and he was back at exploring her mouth, allowing her hands to roam under his formal shirt, her touch warm as she pressed her fingers to his firm stomach.

A moan escaped from her mouth and her nails grazed against his torso, allowing his breath to hitch against her mouth.

Fingers tugged at his hair and he tried to pull her closer. Then they broke apart, clutching each other, gasping with their efforts to remain quiet as approaching voices began to sound louder.

It was Remus. "No, I don't think it's a good idea to just—"

He could hear the door burst open instantly and from the way Hermione's eyes widened, it was best if he just moved his hands away from her arse.

"—open the door."

Very slowly, James turned around, praying to Merlin that it would be anyone but Sirius.

His prayers were not heard.

"What the fuck is going on here?"

.

It would be foolish of Hermione to just _run_, but that was exactly what she did. She eyed her brother carefully and before he could utter one more word, she grabbed the glass of Firewhiskey and gulped it down in one big go.

The liquor burned her dry throat, and as the Marauders stared at her, dumbfounded at the fact that _she_ was the first one to get drunk, she ran for it.

Her bare feet hit the cold pavement and she ran and ran to the point she could no longer hear the distant music play in the background. The breeze wrapped around her form as she moved to the porch, her mind blurry as she tried to form sound thoughts.

She was surprised to see the man that stood in front of her.

"Miss Black, what a surprise to see you here," he said, a wide smirk on his face as he looked up and down at her.

Still giddy from the alcohol she'd just drunk, she paid no mind to his dark eyes and shrugged. "Why is it a surprise? I can go out anytime I want," she insisted, her voice slurred as she tried to enunciate her words.

He frowned at her, deep and scornful. "I was told that you were too smart for your own good, but I fail to see that," he murmured irritably, despite the fact that she was still very much there.

She blinked heavily, though her angered mind reminded her of where her wand was. "What?"

"Hermione, Hermione," he tutted, a sly grin at his lips as he rubbed along his bearded jaw. "I think it's best if I just let you know why you must stay away from our business. Surely, you don't want to hurt your twin, _hmm?_"

Her back hit the cemented wall harshly, and Granger seemed to realize who he was because she screamed, _Silence him—_

"For now, it's just you, _Krasotka_."

Her eyes widened as a purple light burst out of his wand and she felt a sharp pain twist at her abdomen, blood pouring out through her black dress as she scrambled to take out her wand.

Her legs gave way lifelessly and she tried to inhale sharply as long as she could, continuing to do so even as she heard a sharp crack at the man's disappearance.

_I'm so sorry, so sorry_, she could hear Granger's low cries, and she then hurried to say, _We need to stop the bleeding, Hermione. Come on, repeat the incantation with me._

Her shaky hand gripped her wand loosely and she tried to follow the woman's orders, doing everything she could to stop the bleeding, but she instantly realized that there was only one more thing she could do.

She gathered the little energy she had left in her body, and she called for her Patronus, urging for it to inform the Potters of where she was.

"Come soon," she rasped out to the stag, watching with half lidded eyes as it disappeared out of her sight and nothing followed but black.

.

After Hermione made a run for it, Sirius didn't look back once before striding towards his best friend and knocking him down. "What the fuck were you doing? Your hands on her—on her!"

"—her arse," Peter supplied, and Sirius turned around briefly to glower at him.

He looked back at James, the boy's expression shifting into one of cringe. "I was, yes - but Sirius. This is only the _second_ time we've kissed!"

Remus face palmed himself, while Sirius was still shaking in rage and holding himself back from hitting his own head against the wall. "What did you just say?" he questioned through gritted teeth. "That's my fucking sister you're talking about!"

He should've seen it coming. Those looks they'd sneaked around each other should've caught his attention!

But . . . Remus sent him a look, and he also thought of how _happy_ Hermione looked whenever she was with his best friend, his fingers loosening around James's robes.

He just wanted his sister to finally have a reason to be happy.

His best friend's formal shirt was still unbuttoned, and he scowled at the sight. "You're . . ." he hesitated, and he tried a small grimace-like smile, "dating?"

A relationship could help his sister relax from all the responsibilities she held on her shoulders.

But his smile quickly slid off at his best mate's sullen look. The boy shook his head, his fingers darting through his hair. "She said she had too much going on before we left Hogwarts, but _she_ was the one to kiss me today—"

"I didn't need to know that," Sirius cut him off with a disgusted look. He fell back against the side of the bed, and he sighed. Hermione was too self sacrificing for her own good. She needed to think of her happiness, too. "But she likes you?"

"She said she does," James muttered, a goofy smile played at his lips, and Sirius was no one to blame him for that. If he could trust anyone with his twin sister, it was James Potter.

He chuckled disbelievingly. "This whole time, I noticed nothing," he said dryly, running a hand over his face. "Might as well help you now that I know."

This caught all the boys' attention, them looking stunned at what he'd just said. He guessed even he expected himself to get angrier, but after the whole ordeal with Diggory . . . _yeah_, he trusted James's feelings for her more than anyone else's.

He thought of the night he'd taken care of Hermione, while Sirius had been away for some stupid prank. He nodded to himself. He needed to redeem himself and be a good brother. "Yeah - I'll talk to Hermione—"

He thought this would've made his best friend much happier than earlier, but his face paled as he looked away from him.

Sirius's brows furrowed and he followed his trail of sight, landing on Charlus's bloodied robes as he approached them.

They were up in an instant. "Dad? What's going on? Are you hurt?" James began his incessant questioning, worry leaking clearly in his tone.

Sirius could feel something in his chest cave sharply, making him stumble back as Charlus shook his head.

"_Hermione_," his gasp overlapped Charlus's answer. Sirius's hand latched on the eldest Potter and he quickly swallowed down the lump in his throat.

"Where is she?" he breathed out, unbothered by the way his voice wavered. He needed to know that she was fucking fine—

The patriarch looked at him then, panicked and distraught. "St. Mungo's."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit I am not aware of how many active readers this story truly has, however I want to use this platform to talk about a very grave issue that still continues to affect the lives of many black people in America and in other countries, as well. Police brutality is real, and it continues to happen everyday.
> 
> If you are white, use your privilege to intervene and defend the innocent black people that risk their lives for simple acts such as taking a walk or jogging. If you are a POC like me - or even just an immigrant, I suggest you make sure that your family is aware of the current events and clear up any misunderstandings that have been built in their minds regarding black people/cops.
> 
> I live in Canada and you may also not live in the United States, however you can still help! I will put a link on my profile, and if you go on it, you will be able to see all the petitions you can sign. If you have money, please donate as much as you can, as well. Use your voice! Do not stay neutral in moments like these! BLM! ACAB!
> 
> blacklivesmatters . carrd . co / (remove the spaces for the link to work)


	51. Lost Time

**May, 1976.**

Dolohov's spell was a curse in every sense of the word.

Hermione woke up disoriented and justifiably so. Her parched throat called for her attention, despite the memories that she saw play in her mind once again.

It seemed that Granger had wanted to make sure that Hermione never forgot how the woman had lived her childhood - how she'd fought and with _whom_ she'd fought.

_Harry Potter._

She gasped for breath, the sound of her pulse ringing in her ears as she whimpered softly.

Granger refused to come out, rotten by the guilt that ate at her. She thought she was responsible for the attack—but Hermione disagreed.

Dolohov looked _nothing_ like the man in her memories. He was untouched here, not yet cursed by the sentence of Azkaban.

_Azkaban_. _No, no, no_—she couldn't think about her boys.

She couldn't think of how they had all died in the end, betrayed or traitors themselves.

"Hermione!" exclaimed a voice as Andromeda came into her view, her Healer clothes finally informing her of where she was.

First trip to St. Mungo's, it seemed.

For Hermione Black, anyways.

"It's been so long," her cousin breathed out as she checked her vitals, and that just set Hermione's nerves off once again.

"How long?" came as a whisper, then.

The older woman had a sad sheen in her eyes, her gaze dropping as she said, "It's been close to a month, Hermione. I—somehow you managed to stop the bleeding, but by the time you arrived here, it had begun again and you wouldn't _wake up—_"

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath and looked away. _A month_. She had wasted so much time, and it was all because she had been distracted.

* * *

Hermione had been checking the faint, purple scar that trailed down to her abdomen, when a knock came at the door and she hurried to push down her gown.

"Come in," she coughed out as a sharp pain spread around her body.

His cane came into view first, before Moody finally stepped inside and closed the door behind him with a scowl. She was surprised to see the magical eye that was aimed directly at her as he turned around and furrowed his brows at her. His eyes—or well, _eye?_—landed on the monitor besides her bed.

He visibly relaxed.

"I see you're doing well," he muttered. His cane tapped against the floor as he made his way towards her and sat down on the stool. "You wouldn't have to be here, if you'd been vigilant."

She stared at him, not backing down. "You're right," she said in a monotone voice.

He glanced away as he cleared his throat. "Dolohov is not someone that can be defeated, it seems. Not even by me," he continued in a softer tone, his finger pointed at the glass eye that was pinned straight at her. "I'm lucky that I avoided his Avada."

The thought of not being there to help him as he fought Dolohov jabbed at her mind, and she felt worse than ever. She clasped her hands tightly. "I'm sorry."

He smiled then, of all things. She realized that this was the first time she was seeing the man's lips quirk up. "I'm alive, ain't I? So are you, for that matter. And though I admit we will have to keep you somewhat caged at Potter manor, it's for your own good."

Thoughts flew back to how she'd been ordered to stay home for as long as she could—_no Hogwarts, no Order_—when, if this hadn't happened at all, she would've already been back at the castle.

She swallowed a bitter lump in her throat. It was getting harder to breathe. "If you say so."

He continued, ignoring her lifeless tone just fine. "Dumbledore seems to believe that you are required for the Horcrux hunt," he shook his head with a scowl and growled, "but we _did_ kill the Basilisk a few days ago. We used the sword and grabbed a few fangs, just like you said."

She glared at him but didn't interrupt.

"I know you wanted to go," he suddenly barked with a frown aimed at her, though when she continued to glare back, he calmed down a bit. "But you heard what the Healers have been saying! You already have tears of a fucking phoenix in your body, so it would be too risky to expose you to that kind of venom."

She wanted to talk about how Professor Dumbledore had personally _decided_ to inject Fawkes's tears in the body of a newborn, but she bit her tongue.

She let out a jagged sigh. "Moody, why are you here?" she asked, her voice weary as she stared at her mentor. A sharp pain continued to remain in her head, and she felt like she had gone back in time—when Granger had refused to trust her just yet.

Damn her guilt. Damn this sodding headache.

Moody leaned back in his seat, arms folded as he eyed her carefully. "Thought it might make you feel better if I told you that once you take your O.W.L.s. at home, you can also train with me, _everyday_."

She blinked, her eyes wide. "Everyday?" she asked slowly, trying to sit up properly but failing to do so when her arms fell back, numb.

He seemed to be considering whether he should help her, but when she shook her head, he simply nodded at her question. "And I'll get someone to teach you how to apparate. Is that better?"

* * *

There were moments where Hermione felt like absolutely shit about herself—very unreasonably at that—and today was one of those days. Her chest felt heavy under the crushing pain of her memories, and she could only hold back her tears for so long.

She watched as the boys walked back towards the Floo after a visit, her trying to force a smile on her face but failing miserably at it. She realized that it was no use bothering. She could be doing so much right now—actually be productive and not feel so bloody useless—but her body had decided to be her enemy.

Hermione wanted to push herself up so, so bad but even then, she was left helpless, tears streaming down like a dame that had now been smashed open. Her face contorted in pain and she prayed to Merlin that no one would see her like this, so fucking weak.

She was tired of being in this state — of being hurt constantly and rendered a weakness of the Order. What made destiny even choose _her_ to be the Chosen One, when she was sure that there were better options out there, who wouldn't have let their guard down so soon.

Who wouldn't have wasted so much time by lying still, while the enemy roamed around free to do whatever he wanted - kill whoever he wanted.

A hand covered her back and she let her head hit the warm chest. "Hey, none of that," she could feel James mumble, his hand running up and down her back soothingly. "Don't you ever doubt yourself, Hermione."

She was sure that he had no idea of what she could be possibly thinking about—especially nothing that had to do with Voldemort—and yet, her heart clenched at his words and she cried harder, freely, allowing him to soothe her with his deep, gentle voice that was filled with an immense and obvious amount of concern and love for her.

"I don't deserve you," were now the first words she ever uttered to him after waking up. "I don't," she croaked, shaking her head desperately, all in hopes that the cycle of negativity could finally break before it broke her.

His hand stopped, the beat of his heart loud and close to her ears as he tucked his chin on top of her head.

"You deserve me, I deserve you. It's pretty simple, you know? And yet that lovely head of yours has trouble grasping onto that concept."

She hiccupped, and he let out an adoring laugh, comforting her with warmth that even the burning sun couldn't rival. "But it's okay. I'm willing to wait 'till you feel better and I come back from Hogwarts. Is that fine with you?"

She paused before nodding, a firm movement to make sure that he didn't miss it.

* * *

**June, 1976.**

Finishing her fifth year and staying at home came with a great deal of Order missions - of course, only after Hermione had finished her batch of Potions and could honestly move without any pain.

In fact, Moody told her of how he'd noticed a change in her. Her attacks were sharper now - fiercer in a way that he was sure would scare the Death Eaters away.

And while he suggested that maybe she should still pay heed to Dolohov's words and back down for a while, she refused to do so.

Hermione refused to be weak. She had to be strong for not just herself, but also her family, friends and the entire Wizarding world.

As her feet brushed past the pool of blood that had been present since the moment they'd arrived, she looked up at Gideon. "There's no trace?"

He looked away from the havoc caused in Borgin & Burkes, and he shook his head. "Nothing, at all. We won't be able to find out much until Borgin wakes up . . ."

_If_ he wakes up was left unsaid.

Fabian had taken the old man away to St. Mungo's as soon as she had realized that he was still conscious, and since he had yet to inform them of anything new, it was impossible to keep her hopes up.

She let out a deep sigh. "Why would this place be attacked? I mean, it's supposed to be a _sanctuary_ for Dark wizards. Maybe if I—if the Seer had seen it earlier—"

Gideon gave her a firm shake of his head, walking up to her to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, I know you're frustrated, but the Seer doesn't get to control when to have a vision."

She looked down bitterly. She knew that—being the person in question after all. Still, it felt useless to have this kind of power and not put it to use in the best way she could.

_No_. This was no time to moan. They still had a long way to go.

"You're right. If Mr. Borgin wakes up, you'll let the Order know, right?"

He nodded eagerly, looking down at her with his blue eyes and a wide grin. "Yep. Those Galleons of yours continue to be useful!" He watched as she shook her head with an amused smile before he glanced around and sighed. "I should go now. You can apparate on your own?"

She straightened instantly. "Yes, sir," she informed him proudly, and he sent her a salute as he disappeared on the spot, her gaze remaining on the empty space for a couple of beats before the hold on her wand tightened.

Someone was here, she noticed. The spell hadn't revealed anyone inside, so—

Her stride gradually got quicker as she walked away from the hallway and the front counter, facing the large glass door full of grime as she swung it open.

The biting, hot sun streaks greeted her bare skin as her eyes roamed around the street intensely. There were very few pedestrians on Knockturn Alley to begin with, so she wasted no time in looking over at each one of them.

Until her gaze caught the form that faced away from her.

She immediately made a run towards it, fingers gripping on the robe and forcing the person to turn around abruptly.

A growl erupted from behind the mask he wore, and her gaze focused on the only feature that could be seen: his eyes.

_Red._

Her gaze quickly flew down to his wand hand, her eyes widening at the slimy, pale and thin fingers that were wrapped around it.

Her chest crushed under the heavy weight of her realization, and she rasped out, "_You . . ._"

A cold, fixed breeze settled around them as he leaned closer to her, a puff of freezing air directed at her. "Me?" he drawled out in a chilling tone. "It appears that you haven't forgotten about me, Miss Black. Or can I call you Hermione?"

"You _bastard!_" she whispered fiercely, her wand aimed at him immediately, but he shook his head at her, his attention turning at the people around them.

"You don't want to hurt them too, do you?" He laughed then, the sound making her want to claw at her skin.

Her fingers latched around his wrist, tightening under the contact of his black robes. "You won't get away with it, _Voldemort_."

His narrowed eyes pinned on her contemplatively, and he pushed her hand away. "How fascinating," he murmured until he silently disappeared on the spot.

* * *

"Stop spouting nonsense," Dorcas argued, though the firmness that was shown in Hermione's expression made her falter. "What makes you think You-Know-Who would be the one to attack Borgin & Burkes?"

Hermione continued to pace around the living room, barely restraining herself to keep calm as she asked, "Why else would he be there?"

Dearborn, a former DADA teacher that she had the pleasure to meet once again during her recent training lessons, proceeded to clear his throat and send a firm nod her way. "We need to think about how he has worked for Mr. Borgin for many years. Even if he wasn't behind the attack, what could've made him visit the place again?"

They settled into a tense silence, each trying to make out the uneasiness that had spread at the notion of Voldemort walking around Diagon Alley.

The Headmaster stood up, a deep shade of blue in his eyes and he glanced at her with a warm smile. "Thank you for letting us know, Hermione. I think it would be best if the Order members offered to patrol the place at certain times."

"Can I—" Hermione began immediately, but he cut her off with a hand.

"If they see you there, it will only call for their attention."

Her eyes fluttered close in frustration, flashing open and pinning directly at the Headmaster as she went to argue. "I'll have to face him some day!"

He turned around, his hands clasped around his back as he walked towards the Floo. "The less risk you take before that, the better it will be for you."

_Not a chance_, she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the support you've given this story! I'd love to hear what you have to say about the update.


	52. To Be Mature

**June, 1976.**

James walked with his hands tucked in the pockets of his robes, laughing loudly at a joke Peter had made, though it didn't take him long to notice that Sirius still had no hint of a smile.

"Pads?" he hesitated before throwing an arm sideways around his neck. "She's probably happy to study for as long as she wants," he insisted, straining to keep a worried frown off his face.

He couldn't deny how much he bloody missed her.

A group of Slytherins snorted as they walked by, Mulciber eyeing Sirius with a mocked pity. "It's a shame you still have to worry about her, Black." The Marauders tensed as the Slytherin's voice got sharper. "Now, imagine if she'd just died—"

"Shut the fuck up," a voice drawled bluntly, the person's face completely bare of emotion.

To James's surprise, it was Snape. The boy sent his housemates a sour glare, pushing Regulus to go on without him—though, the youngest Black looked like he wanted to do nothing more than hex the fuck out of his housemates. Remus sent him a quick reassuring glance as he went past them.

Mulciber rolled his eyes. "Defending a blood traitor now, Snape? Should've expected that from someone who's dating a Mudblood."

The group of Slytherins chuckled lowly, even as the rest of the students gathered around them recoiled at the slur.

Sirius shrugged himself off the hold James had around him, and he immediately joined Snape's side. He looked at the Slytherins with a dangerous hardness in his eyes. His voice thickened with rage when he spoke. "Shut the fuck up before I make you regret it, you sick motherfucker!"

He raised his wand threateningly. However, luckily for them, Hermione had decided to send him a message through the Galleon right at that time. Not bothering to look back once, Sirius placed a hand over his chest, turned around and walked away - surprising the whole student body at the maturity he showed.

.

Lily later came to ask him what had made him support Snape.

"I have no time to bother with House rivalries."

His sister was hurt, for Merlin's sake!

This made the redhead's eyes avert quickly. She hesitated before saying, "I hope she's doing well. I . . . I actually have something to confess."

This caught the Marauders' attention, though James wasn't too keen to hear what she had to say. If she was just going to badmouth Hermione once again, he wasn't sure he could tolerate it.

"Go ahead then," Sirius murmured in a bored tone, looking more focused at the coin in his hands and eagerly waiting for his twin's response.

Her cheeks began to resemble the colour of her hair. "I was the one to send Hermione that Love Potion," she blurted out in one go, her eyes dropping at the angered expressions she faced.

Remus had to place a placating hand on James's arm to hold him back. "You have lost all my respect, Lily," said James sharply, his tone rising. "They were all right in questioning how much I really knew you. Being a girl . . . how could you even do that?"

Sirius just sat there in silence, his silver eyes boring into the redhead's as she opened her mouth. "Did you mean to do it?" he gritted out, his hands clenched tight.

"I thought they liked each other! And," she sneaked yet another remorseful glance at James and drew a calming breath, "I wanted to make sure that she wouldn't steal James away from me. I didn't know it would end up like that."

She earnestly bowed her head in regret, and Sirius simply scoffed loudly. "Get the fuck out."

Her expression twisted in confusion. "What?"

"Get out before I take you to Dumbledore."

Peter looked at the Black twin disbelievingly, his eyes darting towards the Prefect as she slipped quietly out of the dorm. "You're just going to let her go? After everything she's done to Hermione?" he questioned, his tone rising in a mix of surprise and anger.

Sirius fell back on his mattress, his voice muffled as he said, "Hermione would've done the same fucking thing."

* * *

James felt _empty_. That was the only way he could describe the hopeless feeling that followed him since that night. From seeing her unconscious—Healers all around trying to get rid of the Dark curse from her body—to the moment she finally woke up and let out the first words uttered at him.

Of course, she deserved him, he said to himself as he remembered what she'd said. Why wouldn't she? If anything, he wasn't sure he deserved a fierce person like her who, after just one moment of weakness, had immediately gotten stronger.

Or maybe she was faking being fine just to not worry them. He couldn't quite tell from the conversations the Marauders had with her through his two-way mirror.

He watched as Sirius anxiously held the mirror towards him, blinking slowly at the absence of his twin from the other side.

By his side was Regulus, who they had sneaked in under the Invisibility Cloak when he insisted that he needed to see his sister.

The Slytherin's lips were pressed into a firm line. "Where is she?" he asked calmly.

"She's probably having dinner," Remus tried to reason, though James could tell that even the werewolf was fighting to keep calm.

James clenched his hands, his jaw clicked in worry, and Peter patted his shoulder reassuringly, a shaky smile as he said, "You know how distracted she can get."

Sirius opened his mouth, probably to complain about how disorganized she'd gotten, when his eyes widened and he sat up eagerly.

"Hermione!"

James scrambled on the bed, pushing himself up behind the two Black brothers and putting his hands on their shoulders to look straight ahead.

_Hermione_. There she was, looking beautiful—utterly exhausted but adorable either way.

"Sirius, were you about to talk shit about me—wait, is that _Regulus?_" she exclaimed and her voice wavered, her misty gaze settling on the younger sibling. She drew a deep breath and waved at him with a wide smile.

James just knew that she was about to ramble. "Err - hey, Reggie? You know - I'm aware that it might be hard to live with the Malfoys for a while, but I promise I'll visit as much as I can and—trust me, it's to keep you safe—"

After Sirius and Hermione had been permanently blasted off the tapestry, James knew of how nervous they had been with leaving the younger sibling at Grimmauld Place for the summer break.

So, it seemed that somehow Regulus had managed to convince Walburga, the sack of dragon dung, to stay with Abraxas Malfoy and learn all about Dark Arts. At the very least, he had less chances of running into Bellatrix now.

Regulus's lips puckered up in a pout. James wasn't sure whether the younger boy was even aware of what he was doing as his eyes widened at Hermione.

"Are you okay?" Regulus breathed out in a strained voice, completely ignoring her rambling.

She gave him a warm smile. Her eyes told him of how badly she wanted to reach out and pat her brother's hair, so James did it for her. His hand swept back the jet-black hair, no complaints coming his way as Regulus waited eagerly for the answer to his question.

"I'm fine," she reassured him loudly. "Do you think I'd be anything but fine?" She sounded very haughty, resembling too much of the Malfoys. It was likely she was spending a lot of time with Abraxas.

. . . and Lucius, but he didn't want to think about that. The fire in his chest would only grow to hurt, at the very least until he'll finally be able to talk to Hermione again.

Regulus scoffed, his expression weary as he murmured childishly, "You _did_ get _hurt_ though. You are away from us because of it."

Sirius appeared to be thinking about something for a moment, before he slung his arm around his brother's shoulders, grinning at him then looking back at Hermione.

"Don't worry about this sour face, Cub. Before you ask - yes, he's doing alright. Now, when are you going to pay attention to _me?_"

Hermione rolled her eyes with an amused smile, before leaning closer to the mirror and narrowing her gaze at him. "Well, then. Confess your sins!"

They all turned to look at Sirius, a certain werewolf clearing up his throat as he sent his best friend a wry grin. "Actually, not much of a sin, Hermione."

Hermione looked at him in disbelief as he recounted how Sirius had handled the matter with the Slytherins and Lily. Her eyes softened at her brother when she learned of how mature he'd been.

She sneaked a glance at James, him meeting the eye contact eagerly, hungry for her attention. When he raked his hands through his hair, messing it, and his lips formed into a smirk, her own lips twitched and she dragged her eyes away.

"Well . . . I'm glad Lily has moved on."

James gave her a burning stare. He leaned forward, scooting closer to the mirror, and he ignored Sirius's protests. "Like me."

Her cheeks visibly tinged in surprise, and she coughed awkwardly. "That's good," she stammered, but he didn't worry when she said nothing else.

He really couldn't wait to see her once again.

Regulus's eyes darted toward him then back at her. It took a moment, then there was a glimmer of realization in his eyes. "Sirius," he began in a wary voice. "Had a talk with your best mate here, yet?"

Sirius scratched at his jawline, shrugging. "I've had mine, but feel free to add anything else."

Remus, having noticed Hermione's pleading look as she urged him to distract her brother, sighed heavily and grabbed Regulus's arm. "Come on. We should get you back to the dungeons."

When the younger Black sent him one last petulant glare, James tried to force his face to remain straight though the corners of his lips twitched. He gave Hermione a charming grin and continued to hold her gaze.

Boy, did he miss her.

* * *

A volatile mix of excitement and dread swirled in her belly as Hermione's gaze swept around the castle's hallways. A lifeless sigh slipped past her lips when she thought of how _long_ it had been.

The boys had most definitely already arrived at Potter manor, she realized as she followed Professor Dumbledore, trying to remain focused. He continued to talk about how Ravenclaw's Diadem was probably going to be the easiest Horcrux to acquire out of all of them.

She remained quiet, walking past Barnabas the Barmy's portrait three times, as she allowed the room to fulfill her wish and create the Room of Hidden Things.

Silence was the only thing they met when Professor Dumbledore opened the door. A warm gust of air hit her face as she entered, and her gaze swept over the cluster of rubbish in front of her.

"There are quite a few abandoned things," Professor Dumbledore mused, though it felt like an understatement as she stared at the large mountains of waste.

She thought back to where Harry had said he'd seen the piece of jewelry whilst hiding his Potions notebook—no, _Snape's_, she corrected herself—and her feet immediately led her to the spot, Professor Dumbledore deciding to begin his search elsewhere.

She gripped at a few solid objects such as heavy books as she climbed up, watching a glass paperweight shatter down to the floor due to her hand's clumsy motion.

"Shit," she muttered as she looked up, continuing the search and halting abruptly when she heard the sinister whisper of a woman.

"_Here she comes_," she heard, and Hermione scrambled towards the source, her ear perked in the direction as the voice got louder.

Her eyes snapped up, and she could finally see it - _feel_ it.

An ugly, chipped warlock obscured part of her view but when she moved it, she finally met the sight of the diadem and her lips parted on a breath.

"I found it!" she called for the Headmaster, who seemed to have been nearby as he wasted no time in making his way towards her and the Horcrux.

She leaned closer to the discoloured, old piece and finally grasped it, a rush of wailing noises diving into her ears, and she shut her eyes. The volume continued to get louder when her fingers tightened around the piece.

"Hermione, get down."

Hermione pushed herself off the pile, the balls of her feet landing on the floor as she crouched down in pain. "I can _feel_ it — it's like there's two forces fighting under my touch," she explained in a strained voice, and the Headmaster immediately took it from her hands, eyeing it meticulously and nodding.

"It is all due to Riddle's use of Dark magic on this diadem," he exclaimed, disappointment sinking deep in his tone as he mentioned his former student. He expelled a sigh and looked at her once more. "Are you sure you want to be the one to destroy it?"

She nodded firmly. "I want to be the one to do it. I . . ." she hesitated, her thoughts flying back to Granger. "I need to prove to her that I'm doing fine - that I'm here because of her help."

He seemed to realize who she was talking about, when his twinkling, blue eyes peered at her head. "Indeed, Hermione. Miss Granger, I hope you are prepared in there, for what's about to happen."

Hermione forced back the urge to roll her eyes at the wizard, her wit definitely unnecessary at the moment. She took the Sword of Gryffindor from the Headmaster's hand, a grunt at the weight before she moved it around and her muscles got used to the strain.

"Okay," she nodded to herself as the Headmaster placed the diadem on the floor, "I'm ready."

Professor Dumbledore sent her a slow, careful stare and she focused on the ancient diadem in front of her.

She could do it.

Her eyes wide open in determination, she raised the sword and urged it down in one sharp motion, watching as the piece began to split apart by the heavy weight that hit it.

A burst of Dark force stirred in the air when she continued to force the sword down, her eyes slamming shut at the echoing hisses in her ears that turned into something much worse.

_You are useless_, Orion Black spat as he looked at her in disdain. She stared at the image of her father, completely consumed with a terror that she hadn't felt since the night she lost him. _I am dead because of you!_

"No!" she cried out in a mournful voice, shaking her head helplessly as the image refused to burn away. It felt like a punch to the gut to see him again in this way.

_What have you even done to help so far? You are just a burden._

He glared at her, his silver eyes flashing darkly in a way she'd never seen. _You are but a danger to your brothers, your friends, everyone._

"Father," she screamed helplessly until she was hoarse. "No—"

She stumbled back as a familiar, sharp pain erupted from her head. It was then that she heard Granger's faint voice. _Hermione, the Dark force is playing with your mind!_

Her eyes flashed open and she pressed her lips into a tight line, resisting a groan as the sword finally clicked down the pavement and two halves of Ravenclaw's Diadem clattered away.

Granger's heavy sigh rang in her head. _You did it._

_No_. Hermione released a shaky breath, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ears. Her lips lifted into a hopeful smile. _We did it._

And yet, a feeling of loss flooded her at the black that greeted her eyes when she shut them.

_Father . . ._

Granger cleared her throat. _Will talking to James make it better?_

Hermione sighed heavily. _Good question._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One Horcrux down, several others left to go. Not to mention how something you've all been waiting for is happening in the next chapter. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it, and I would love to know what you think!


	53. Reunion

**July, 1976.**

The moment he heard the main doors open, Sirius immediately shifted into Padfoot and ran towards his twin, jumping and sending Hermione toppling to the floor.

The girl let out a surprised laugh that soothed his chest, and he barked happily. She wounded her arms around him tightly, only letting go as she rose to greet the other boys.

"You're here," Remus murmured in her embrace, a glittered green gaze that didn't move away from Hermione even as she went to hug Peter next.

"Hello to you too, Moony," she breathed out, taking in their appearance for a few more seconds before she glanced down and finally paid mind to _him_.

"Alright then, Padfoot," she muttered and wasted no time in shifting into Cub. The Golden Retriever let out a couple of few barks before he allowed her to curl against his body, him more than glad to give her as much warmth as she needed.

It was only when his ears twitched, and he caught the steps that headed towards them that he shifted back into his human form.

"_Fuck_." He groaned loudly and ran his hand across his eyes. He went to pick up Cub before Dorea could notice her, but the older woman was swift enough to catch the pup into her arms.

"Oh, dear! What a cute puppy," she exclaimed with a radiant smile, paying no mind to the colour that had drained from Peter's face.

"Sirius," he hissed at him with wide eyes, "you need to do something."

He took a deep breath, trying to think of something as Dorea began to walk away from them.

Remus sent him an alarmed look and cleared his throat. "Dorea, where exactly are you taking her? We found her outside. We should probably—"

"_Her_, huh? Well, I was thinking that James could probably see her before Hermione comes back from her . . . outing."

Right. _Outing_. The grim line of his lips turned downwards, and he realized that he needed to ask Hermione of what went on during her mission.

The woman continued with a glint in her eyes, "That boy has been sulking since he has arrived, and this cute pup might help."

Cub let out a slow whine, and had Sirius not been her _brother_, he would have laughed at the thought of leaving her in James's arms to _improve_ his mood, but that was certainly not the case here.

"Now, Dorea—" he instantly went to protest, but Remus sent him a look that told him of how suspicious it would look if he sounded so defensive.

The older woman knocked on the door once and opened it, revealing his best friend as he lay on the bed with his arms crossed behind his head.

He really did seem to be sulking, but Sirius still hesitated by the doorway when Dorea dropped Cub on his lap and ushered for the boys to follow her.

The last thing he saw before he was forced to turn around was the wide smile that grew on James's lips.

"Still not safe leaving those two alone," he muttered under his breath, and Remus hit the back of his head before he could continue with his rant.

.

James swallowed a relieved breath as his back hit the mattress, Hermione on top of him the moment she shifted back into her human form.

He'd been waiting for this moment for _months_ now, and he was still mesmerized by her presence, leaving him speechless. His hands welcomed the contact with her warm waist, and he was unable to stop staring up at her.

She looked _healthy_. Her skin shone under the daylight and her golden-brown hair fell in waves, barely over her shoulders. Her cheeks had the rosy colour that always calmed him down, and her lips - well, they looked as soft as always.

Her warm breath fanned against his face, and her hand came up to cup his cheek. He couldn't help but lean into the touch, biting down a smile.

The corners of his lips tugged into a smirk. "Missed me?" he whispered, and she rolled her eyes at him - a half-exasperated, half-fond smile still on her face that left his hopes up.

Before she could answer that she certainly _did_ _not_, the tip of his tongue darted out and slipped along his lower lip. "I'm not sure if you remember the conversation we had last time."

"That you were willing to wait for me," came her reply, her sweet-toned voice soothing his heart like warm honey. He had missed that about her. Everything that came with Hermione Black felt euphoric in such an enchanting way that he could never get enough of it.

The beat of his impatient heart only quickened when she gave him a wry grin but remained quiet. His lips pursed into a pout—he wasn't ashamed of using his pure, good looks—and her smile only widened further.

Well, she was _happy_, and he couldn't be mad about that.

_Never_.

And James found that the fruit of wait was indeed very sweet when she leaned closer and her mouth gently pressed against his with a taste full of promise and yearning.

His eyes dropped closed as he felt her warm lips, and a slow pulse to his kisses grew, as though he couldn't pull away no matter how hard he tried. She pressed her body flush to his, and he kissed her harder. He kissed her like he had no plans to ever stop, his tongue sliding against hers, quick and greedy.

Their lips continued to move in tandem, and he felt a deep, jagged sigh spill from her mouth. He leaned back, his mouth going dry the moment his eyes pinned on her red, swollen lips. His gaze then swept over her face to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

He sat up slowly, and she straddled him, the image of her legs around his hips making him believe that _yes_, he was _definitely_ dreaming. He blinked as his wayward mind drifted to the inappropriate fantasies that he couldn't deny he'd had at night.

She gave him a curious look as his hand came up to the pendant that hung around his neck. His fingers tightened over the Galleon and his eyes fluttered shut.

_Will you be my girlfriend?_

His eyes finally opened, brows furrowing when he saw her remain still. "You didn't get it?"

She tilted her head curiously. "Get what?"

His eyes widened and his back straightened urgently. "The — _ah_, the message I sent you!" he exclaimed, his hopeful expression shifting into a grimace the moment he saw the shake of her head.

"Are you sure you didn't send it to someone else?"

He gaped at her, and the possibility that he'd sent it to her _brother_ instead crept through his mind, making his eyes fly down in panic when he felt the coin heat up. Hermione pushed his glasses up against the bridge of his nose, and he momentarily paused to revel in the warmth of the gesture.

His love for her grew more and more everyday.

"I—" He cut himself off, looking down at his coin as he read out, "_No, Prongs. I don't want to date this Black. — R.L._ Wow, should I feel disappointed?"

He gave Hermione a wide-eyed look, disappointment etched on his face. "Maybe you can kiss it better?" he suggested with a grin, and she shook her head in amusement.

She snorted and her hands came up to cup his face, her soft thumb brushing over his jawline. "How about I give you my answer first? Because I certainly _do_ want to be your girlfriend," she told him, her voice soft but clear.

Smugly, he leaned back and met her gaze in a challenge. "I didn't expect any other answer, anyways," he said breezily, batting an absent-minded hand while smiling winningly again. It was a lie, but it still felt good to watch the heat that swam in the depth of her eyes.

She arched a brow. "I can always take it back—"

Not giving her another chance to talk, he cupped her face and gave her a slow, adoring look before he leaned in and finally kissed her with all he had. He poured his heart into the kiss; the love and the worries that had followed him all day and night for too long now.

He couldn't help but smile against her lips. Without warning, he pulled away before tugging her into a tight hug, burying his face in her neck and holding her there, her warmth pressed against him as though to reassure himself that she was fine.

* * *

It didn't take long for Regulus to get the news of the couple. Like he'd asked him to do, Sirius had called him through the mirror after just a few hours of arriving at Malfoy manor, and he scowled at the thought of how _quick_ Potter had been at asking Hermione to be his girlfriend.

Biting down the disappointment at not seeing his sister in front of him—it was best that she didn't hear what he was about to say, anyways—he glared at the bespectacled boy in front of him.

James had his brows drawn together, looking focused even though he had yet to speak.

Regulus cleared his throat and surveyed him with pursed lips. "You asked her out," he began with exaggerated solemnity, addressing the matter at hand.

_Sod it all. _He'd meant to sound more intimidating.

Abraxas chuckled in the background. He paid the man no mind.

"I did," the reply came in a steady voice, almost _challenging_ to see what Regulus would even do if that were true.

He faltered slightly, fidgeting with his hands. He admittedly wasn't sure what he should tell his sister's boyfriend. It was more of the need to be more involved as a brother than how he'd been when she'd dated Diggory.

His lips curled in distaste, though a voice in the back of his mind told him of how _handsome_ the Hufflepuff looked. Regulus restrained a scoff. He wasn't even nearly as good looking as—

—there was no need to mention _him_.

The corners of Potter's lips visibly twitched, while he could hear Sirius's guffaws in the background. "Moony, are you sure you lik—_Ow_, alright!"

Regulus froze when golden-brownish hair peeked at him from the corner of the screen, and his shoulders squared immediately. A pit opened in his stomach as he realized who else was there.

He'd gotten to spend more than a few evenings with Rem—_Lupin_ after Hermione got hurt and he had constantly needed reassurance that she was fine. The Marauder had taken into making sure that he didn't worry too much, and Regulus often got to accompany him during his Prefect rounds under the Invisibility Cloak.

Soon coming to notice that the two boys on the screen were waiting for him to say something, he shut away the memories of his . . . new, close _friend_, he supposed bitterly. He felt a mortifying need to show the two boys that he _could_ be intimidating if he wanted to, and he sent Potter a scathing look.

"Do you know what happens if you hurt Hermione?" he questioned sharply—just like his father would've done.

He pressed his lips together at the memory of Orion Black, which only led him to wonder what his mother was possibly doing at the moment.

_No_. He felt a chill sweep over his skin as he thought of how she had ruined everything. Had it not been for her, his father would be by his side, also being protective of Hermione—

"I'm aware," Potter slowly broke through his thoughts, his back straightening as he stared right back at Regulus. "I will try my best to never hurt her."

"You better," he replied with a sneer. He opened his mouth to say something else that could be malicious, but he noticed Abraxas shake his head in his peripheral vision.

"That's enough, boy," Lucius called from his seat, and he relented, restraining to keep his lips from turning downwards.

His attention turned back to the self-absorbed Gryffindor that had the gall to send him a cheeky grin. "Can I just say how _adorable_ you look, wanting to keep your sister safe—"

Regulus shut the mirror off and scoffed as the two Malfoy men restrained their laughter.

_Adorable?!_

* * *

Hermione peered over Peter's shoulders as she stood on her tiptoes, and she narrowed her eyes at the two boys that were grouped together.

"What's happening?" she questioned, suspicion leaking loud and clear in her tone as Remus's surprised gaze landed on her.

Peter's face screwed up on one side, and he eventually sent her a sympathetic smile. "James just finished talking to your brothers."

Frowning, she continued to look ahead at her brother and boyfriend. "Why?"

"Err—I told them that they _shouldn't—_" Remus began in a placating voice, sounding like he mostly wanted to save himself, and she almost patted his head to comfort both him and Peter.

She had missed her boys immensely. However, what she hadn't missed was her brothers thinking they had any right to threaten James.

Granger agreed with her. _That's right, dear._

So, she stalked up to her brother and her fingers latched around his arm, forcing him to turn around and look down at her in surprise.

"Is anything wrong?" he asked, scrutinizing, grey eyes roaming over her face.

"Yes, there is—"

He gave her a worried look. "Is your scar hurting?"

"—You shouldn't scare James like that!"

He gave her a slow, dramatic roll of his eyes, while James let out a wounded cry of protest, still ironically sounding _very_ terrified at the insinuation. "Oi! I'm not scared."

She ignored him, staring up at her twin defiantly even as he continued to look anything close to apologetic. Hermione expelled a tired sigh and she tugged at his arm. "He's your best friend, too—if not like your long-lost brother. What if _I_ am the one to hurt him?"

His eyes fluttered close as he drew a long, calming breath. "You think I'm not worried about that?" he whispered hoarsely, his hands placed on her shoulders as he looked down at her.

"If I wanted to, I could've chosen to disapprove of this—" he waved a hand between her and James with a grimace, "_—relationship_, but I didn't. I can see how happy you two are now, and I just need it to remain that way. So, just don't mess it up, _please_."

She overheard Peter mentioning how wise Sirius had gotten, and Hermione couldn't help but agree with the statement. She hadn't thought about how he might feel at the possibility of her or James hurting the other, and she immediately moved to give him a tight hug.

"I won't mess it up."

James walked up to them and embraced them both, settling his chin on top of her head. "I won't either. It's a Marauder's promise," he swore loudly.

They settled into a comforting silence until she felt Sirius swat away James's hand from her arse. "No touching!" he growled.

* * *

His dad's gaze fitted around the dining table, and the moment it settled on James as he sat down next to Hermione, he sent Dorea an amused look.

"What is it?" James asked curiously, and his mum let out a short laugh.

"We were starting to think you two didn't stand each other," she said, sneaking another glance at her husband. "Since we've been proven wrong, there was something we wanted to ask."

Charlus remained quiet for a couple of seconds before he set his knife down and looked at Hermione and Sirius carefully. "We were actually wondering if you would like to be recognized by the Ministry as our adopted kids."

An awkward, heavy silence settled around the dining room, and he could feel Hermione stiffen beside him. His fingers rested over her shorts, and he ran soothing motions on her thigh, watching as she stared at Sirius helplessly.

Sirius eventually got the message that he was the one who should probably answer, at the moment. He cleared his throat dramatically, and James instantly regretted thinking that he was the best option.

Remus was _right_ _there_.

Sirius looked uncomfortable as he scratched the back of his head. "Actually, err—while the offer touches our hearts and we couldn't be any more grateful, I really think it's impossible to make those two siblings now," he said wryly and disgusted at the same time.

"Is it, now?" Dorea asked, surprised and clearly greedy for more information. A spark of knowingness was now visible in his parents' eyes as they gazed at him.

Charlus then sent Hermione a warm smile. "It is more than clear," he murmured in an amused tone, before turning his attention to him. "Do you need another _talk_ from me, James?"

"No," he choked out, allowing Hermione to hand him a glass of water and gulping it all down. He glared at the rest of the Marauders that continued to laugh loudly, and he started sputtering in protest, "I'm good!"

He turned to look at his girlfriend's sheepish smile. His heart leapt when she started to laugh along everyone else. Yes. He was the luckiest man alive—he was certainly good.

* * *

Hermione had spent months dealing with her nightmares by herself, and even though Sirius was finally home, she didn't find it in herself to bother him. If she really wanted to be stronger than Voldemort, she needed to deal with _every_ kind of pain.

And while she thought this was best for her, Granger voiced her disagreement over her decision, just like Sirius was doing right now.

Him and James stood over the doorway, their arms crossed with concerned looks on their faces respectively.

"I don't give a fuck you're grown up. I can't just - just let you torture yourself!" he insisted adamantly, pushing away the placating hand that James had placed on his shoulder.

Her boyfriend still seemed to agree with him, as he pushed himself off the doorway and shuffled over to her bed. He crouched down and took her hand between his, his brows scrunched in concern.

"I'll stay with you."

Immediately, Sirius scoffed, walking over to them and pushing James away. He looked at his best friend and frowned. "Now, mate - just because I accept your relationship, it doesn't mean you can _sleep_ with her."

Hermione watched in disbelief as James rolled his eyes, sitting back down on her bed like nothing had happened. He glanced at his best mate and reasoned, "If she's so embarrassed to still need the presence of her twin, isn't it better if I am with her, instead? At least, she won't be alone."

"Well," Sirius paused, looking quite agitated when he took in James's words and seemed to realize that it _did_ make sense. A slow step back, he complied, "Okay. I see how that makes sense."

A pleased smile spread on James's lips, and Sirius hurried to continue, "But you're only sleeping with her—as in, laying down and comforting her at a reasonable distance. Or you know, I can always ask Charlus to give you that extra _talk_ . . ." he trailed off with a cocky grin.

"No!" James cried out in an exaggerated tone, his pleading gaze now turned towards Hermione. "What do you think?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Finally, you ask _me_ what to do with _my_ nightmares," she announced dryly, watching as her boyfriend's hopeful grin crumbled. She considered the idea with a small smile and realized that didn't sound too bad; the thought of sleeping with his comforting warmth wrapped around her like a safety blanket.

Hermione hummed thoughtfully. "Fine," she said slowly, trying to keep her own excitement at bay. Sirius didn't need to see _that_. "But dealing with me during those nightmares could be hard, you know," she warned the boy, who continued to look like he'd won the lottery.

"You call it a punishment. I call it a blessing," he told her, looking like he was about to jump on the bed right then and there, until Sirius caught the back of his shirt and clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Not yet, Prongs. We've got a very important Black twins' talk incoming," he said loudly as he ushered her boyfriend out of the room, despite his complaints. She watched in amusement as James left the room with a drag of his feet and a rather adorable pout at his lips.

Sirius strid towards the mattress, a thoughtful look on his face as he sat down. "Are you ever going to tell him? Or the boys, for that matter?"

Hermione sucked in a breath at the question, and she averted her eyes. It was inevitable, and she _had_ thought about this over the course of the past few months. While she would still very much like to keep the boys in the dark for as long as possible, she also knew that it wasn't fair.

They were her best friends, and she realized that it was time they heard it from her first, before - before anything happened to her and someone else broke the news to them.

_I agree, Hermione_, Granger said softly, _but Peter—_

_Peter is not your dimension's Death Eater and might never be_, Hermione interjected in her mind. _In my world, he is the sweetest boy. We can't just depend on your memories when they can be wrong here._

Sirius continued to stare at her and his loud groan broke through her thoughts. "Are you seriously choosing to talk to _Granger_ over me?" he complained, a childish, sullen look on his face as his knuckles rapped against her head. She swatted his hand away, and his frown deepened.

Thinking back to everything that had happened today, Hermione finalized that as her boyfriend, James deserved to know what he was getting into.

Pushing down the uneasiness that invaded her mind, she met her twin's worried gaze and nodded.

"On Peter's birthday - I'll do it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter went through a concerning amount of editing; I am almost embarrassed. Anyways, thank you so much for all the comments and kudos. I hope you enjoyed the update, and I would love to hear what you have to say!


	54. The McKinnons

**July, 1976.**

Sirius finally left the room—for the whole night it seemed, since James had made sure to confirm that he wasn't coming back—and Hermione settled down on her large mattress with bright, red cheeks, watching as her boyfriend locked the door and approached the bed with his gaze pinned on her.

Her heart leapt to her throat when he took his shirt off, showing the defined lines on his chest and allowing her breath to accelerate.

_Oh, sweet Merlin_—she shut her eyes briefly to calm the fire that soared in her veins, her gaze flashing open immediately after because she couldn't get enough of the sight in front of her.

"I wish there was a Wizarding camera in my room," she murmured out loud, causing a soft laughter to erupt from James. The corners of his eyes crinkled lovingly as he set down his glasses on the dresser beside the bed, and he finally got into the bed, slipping under the cotton blanket.

She laid on her side, with him just watching her carefully, his eyes roaming all over her face with an intense gleam.

"I'm so happy," he whispered, and his hand came up to caress her cheek. Her heart fluttered and she snuggled closer, his arm coming over her waist and pushing her against him.

Safely tucked against his chest and under the beat of his heart, she smiled faintly and placed a kiss on the bare skin. "This is the happiest I've felt so far this year," she confessed, and his hold on her tightened.

"I promise that you'll have more than just one moment." She couldn't see his face, but she knew that this was one of the few times where he had that really serious and determined look on his face, and her body filled with warmth at the thought of her being the reason behind it.

With a silent spell, she turned the lights off, and rested peacefully in the dark, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

_Bring it on, nightmares_.

* * *

James ended up being right. Perhaps, he truly was some lucky charm that warded off the gore-ish images that usually played in her sleep.

It was only when a streak of light directly hit her face that Hermione woke up from the deep slumber, the back of her hand coming up to rub her eyes with a silent groan slipping past her lips.

"Wha—" groaned the boy besides her, his knee somewhat pushing against her thigh as he settled further into his pillow.

She looked at him through bleary eyes and snickered, _way_ too happy for someone who had just woken up.

Deciding that it would do him good to sleep some more while she went for her morning workout, she pushed herself off the bed and grabbed her clothes as quietly as she could.

She padded towards the door, one last look at the mess of curls and bare chest exposed through the blanket.

_Oh_, she was _definitely_ happy.

The knob turned with a soft click as she closed the door once more, standing by the hallway with bare feet. She eventually got enough energy to make her way through the bathroom that was close to her brother's room.

Hermione was surprised to see Sirius come out of it. Long strands of hair peeked at her in different directions, and she eyed him curiously. "Thinking of joining me on the workout?"

He growled, probably at how unusually early he had to wake up, and he eventually nodded with a grin. "You read my mind, Hermione," he exclaimed dramatically.

She cringed at his volume and moved her hands down vaguely to tell him to quiet down.

"We are twins, Sirius," she then said in a mocking, snobby tone, snickering when he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

"You wouldn't survive a minute with Moody," she complained, though her tone softened greatly. "Come on. I think I'll let you freshen up first—you seem to need it more."

She grabbed his shoulders and gave him a push inside the bathroom, hoping that she won't have to wait long.

* * *

Hermione was in the middle of stretching when James finally joined them, his fingers running through his hair as he asked them if they wanted to fly with him.

Sirius wasted no time in agreeing, jumping to his feet as he poured a whole bottle of water over his hair and shook it wildly.

Hermione wrinkled her nose at him, though she stayed quiet and allowed James to pull her up with his hand.

He gave her a wicked grin. "You coming?"

Arching a brow, she said, "Why, yes, I am."

Surprised but excited nonetheless, James eagerly handed her a broomstick, her not bothering to ask what brand it was as she figured out the spells put over the piece.

_Safe enough_, she told herself to placate her worries, and she mounted on the broom with a deep frown.

"Relax, Cub. You're supposed to _enjoy_ this," Sirius hollered, already up in the air without bothering to wait for her.

She huffed, looking over at James, who hovered over the ground and stared at her earnestly. "It's going to be okay! Remember the lesson I gave you?" he asked with a cocky smile blooming on his lips.

However could she forget _that_ lesson?

A roll of her eyes, and she was up in the air, a wobbly stance but still an acceptable one in her opinion.

"Maybe, the flying lessons shouldn't have been for just first years," she argued with herself, forgetting completely about the boys that raced away in efforts to see who would be the fastest.

"Hermione! Who do you think would win?" Sirius asked, one hand letting go of the broom to point at himself and James.

James snorted loudly. "Obviously, me. Right?"

"No, _I'm_ going to win," she deadpanned and stared at them until they decided that it was best if they kept a watchful stare over her. Who knew how competitive she could get?

James sent his best mate a pointed look and told him to go enjoy the flight. He was there for Hermione in case anything happened.

Sirius seemed to hesitate for a moment before he flew away, and James smiled widely at the girl in front of him as her speed quickened and her back finally straightened.

"I think I'm getting a hang of it," she said, looking over her shoulder to meet his gaze.

"You are," he assured her and flew right by her, his arm curled around her waist as he leaned in to give her a kiss. "You are fantastic."

She chewed on her bottom lip when he pulled away, and his attention was once again attracted to her like a magnet. A groan slipped past his lips and he slanted his mouth on hers again, their tongues moving in tandem as they hovered in the air.

They eventually pulled back, Hermione chuckling briefly as she looked ahead.

"What?" he asked curiously, following her when she began to fly forward.

She shook her head and hummed. "Just thinking about how much you make me lose control," she murmured, not really complaining about his presence that wrapped her in a sense of euphoria.

He quickly stopped in front of her, staring at her with a deep, endless pool of hazel. She could see specks of green and brown and golden; _breathtaking_. "How about you take some time off from . . ." he hesitated, scratching the back of his head, "whatever you've been doing, and visit Marlene?"

Hermione blinked. It wasn't that bad of an idea. It had been a while since she had seen the blonde and she missed her terribly. "But aren't we supposed to plan Peter's birthday?"

He waved his hand, causing panic to surge through at her as he held his broom with only _one_ hand. "Be careful," she hissed, but he ignored her.

Instead, he leaned closer, poking her cheek with an amused grin as she frowned. "We will plan it tonight, princess. Just enjoy your day without any worries."

She could do that - _right?_

* * *

It had been a while, Hermione thought to herself as her eyes took in the bright, white walls that surrounded the large living room.

The McKinnons were certainly quite well off, and she hesitated patting the soot off her clothes when her eyes caught the _very_ clean tiles.

_Well_, she could've apparated but she had been advised not to let anyone know of the ability unless it was necessary, considering that it would only lead to further questions.

Anyways, it wasn't until after she saw Mrs. McKinnon that she felt at ease and moved towards her, allowing the much taller woman to hug her tightly.

"My dear, it's good to see you!" she exclaimed in a strong Scottish accent, and she almost felt the presence of Professor McGonagall alongside her.

The blonde hair that had obscured her vision finally moved away, and she smiled at the woman. "It's good to see you, Mrs—"

"How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Ophelia!" she said loudly, patting her head lovingly before leading her to the kitchen. "Would you like anything? I should call Bitty."

"No, no." Hermione shook her head and continued, "I just had lunch with the Potters. I was hoping I could finally meet Marlene. Where is she?" she asked with a small frown, looking around.

Ophelia looked at the hallway that was at the other end of the room, a warm smile on her face. "She insisted on helping her little niece to sleep."

Her brows flew high to her forehead. "Your eldest came back home?"

Edgar had mentioned nothing of such at the recent Order meeting - not a word about his sister-in-law. Neither had his wife, Amelia Bones, gotten to say much about her best friend.

A nod her way, Ophelia moved around to wipe a small stain on the counter. Looking at her briefly, she said, "Mrs. _I-Am-An-Auror_ said she wants to help as much as she can with this You-Know-Who mess."

The woman shook her head in frustration and glared at the small specks of dirt that refused to go away. "Dorcas and Amelia can deal with her all she wants! I am not letting my grandchild in any danger."

Hermione swallowed thickly. There was a high chance that Ilana McKinnon was going to join the Order as well, and Hermione won't be able to hide her involvement in the group for long.

_Interesting_, Granger murmured. _McKinnons . . ._

She ignored the mumbling. At least, Hermione knew that her and Dorcas Meadows were going to be absolutely ruthless in their search for Death Eaters, and Hermione wanted to do nothing more than to join them.

She looked back at Ophelia and put her hand over hers to calm the woman down. "Don't worry. Ilana is too strong to let anything happen to her."

The woman pursed her lips, nodding along.

"Ma, who are you talking to—_Hermione!_"

She whirled around and found her dear friend running towards her with a jump at her feet, tears running down Marlene's face as she finally wrapped her arms around her.

"I missed you so much!" Marlene exclaimed loudly, a watery sob out of her mouth as she pulled back with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"

Hermione nodded with a wince, allowing Marlene to lead her to the bedroom, the same room where they'd spent countless sleepovers in efforts to forget about Walburga's punishments.

There was very faint light in the room, and Hermione didn't fail to say, "You live the life of a vampire."

Marlene scoffed, pulling her to the large sized bed and crossing her feet eagerly. Her hand held the weight of her face as she reasoned, "This room is cool in the summer. The light would mess it all up."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If you say so, Madame."

"Madame Marlene makes me sound quite old but . . . _huh_, M.M. _could_ be the initials of my journalist persona," she trailed off in a distant voice.

"You decided on journalism?" Hermione nodded approvingly and clapped her hands. "That's fitting."

"And you?" Marlene asked immediately, though she backed away with a wince. "You didn't have the career conversation with McGonagall . . ."

She shrugged evasively. "I don't know anyways," _if I will live past my fight against Voldemort_.

_Of course, you will_, Granger argued irritably.

Marlene hummed thoughtfully, picking at the fabric of her shorts regretfully, and she looked up at her once again. "James was very sad, you know."

The corners of her lips twitched, and this time it was Hermione that looked down shyly. "I — _well_, we actually started dating."

Hermione couldn't stop the excited screech that erupted from her friend's mouth.

"Tell me _everything_."

* * *

Hermione got home quite late. Ophelia had insisted that she stayed for dinner and she couldn't refuse, especially not when Ilana entered through the Floo right then and there, looking _so_ pleased to see her with a strange glint in her eyes.

Hermione refused to cower down, and only left once her stomach was full. Merlin, bless Bitty's cooking.

She tiptoed to her room, finding the boys sitting on her bed with their legs crossed. They looked quite similar to how her and Marlene had spent their entire day together, and she snorted at the similarity.

Closing the door behind her, she expelled an exhausted sigh. "Hey boys," she said, taking her boots off and jumping on the bed with no regrets.

Sirius chuckled and poked her arm. "Missed us?"

She shook her head, her face still planted on top of her pillow with her eyes closed. Her voice was muffled as she said, "Marlene is better company."

"I am offended," James complained, his touch lingering over her back when Sirius slapped his hand away. He frowned at the brother.

"Don't care," she breathed out as she turned on her back and stared up at the ceiling. A strange thought popped in her head and her gaze flew to her twin.

"Sirius . . ." she began and waited for him to finally look at her. "Did you know Benjy broke up with Marlene before the break?"

He visibly swallowed, his gaze averted as he answered, "_Ah_, I've heard."

She hummed, raising a brow when he said nothing else. She thought back to her conversation with Marlene.

_"Did he say why?" Hermione couldn't help but ask. She was sure it had something to with the Order, but she doubted that was what he would tell Marlene._

_Marlene shrugged casually. "Well, the age difference obviously. Also, considering how busy he still gets, I don't think it would've worked anyways, so I don't care. We're still good friends."_

_Her brows rose in surprise. "You are?" She couldn't imagine still being friends with Amos, but she supposed that had to do with his prejudiced thinking._

_"Hmm. We are meeting in a few days actually! Do you want to join us?"_

_Hermione hesitated before agreeing. If they were still on good terms, she supposed it wouldn't be too bad to spend the day with two great friends. "Should I bring the boys along?"_

_Marlene sat up quickly, shaking her head. "Ah, no! I mean, they're not as close with Benjy, you know? So, I don't want to make him too uncomfortable."_

_She sent her friend a strange look. "Marlene . . . that guy is probably the most outgoing person I've ever met."_

_"Still. Just - don't."_

Yes. She narrowed her eyes at Sirius. Something was definitely amiss.

And for once, it had nothing to do with Granger.

_Hey!_ the woman in her head grumbled.


	55. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very long one, but since it was so anticipated, I couldn't really be cruel enough to divide it into two chapters, lol. Enjoy and I'll see you after around 5k words!

**July, 1976.**

Hermione hesitated by the doorway of the apartment. Her gaze washed over the second-hand furniture and the lightly dusted windows, her heart dropping at the trembling limbs that continued to lead her to the living room.

Diana Pettigrew sent her a warm smile as they both sat down on the black, faux leather loveseat, and she returned the smile with ease - though, she could barely resist the prickle in her eyes as she noticed how _pale_ the woman looked.

Sure, Peter had told them from their first year that his mum was sick, and he had to often stay back home during the summer, so that he could manage the convenience shop downstairs. What she hadn't been told was of how _critical_ her condition had gotten.

And since her best friend had refused to ever mention his father, she knew that for many years now, Mrs. Pettigrew had been forced to manage the household and the costs of Peter's school supplies all by herself.

Hermione cleared her throat. "How are you doing, Ma'am?"

"Call me Diana, dear," she insisted with a wave of her hand. Her deep, blue eyes stared at her through her round, thinly rimmed glasses, and she slid closer towards Hermione. "Peter has told me so much about you and the Marauders. What an adorable name!"

At the jovial tone of the woman, Hermione's chest warmed and her mouth lifted into a smile. "Thank you! Your son is such a great friend—"

"Hermione?"

Her head snapped towards the hallway, where Peter stood with his mouth open in surprise. His gaze shifted to his mum and then back at her, immediately shuffling towards the couch and latching his fingers around her wrist.

She sent Diana another quick smile before she was dragged away to the farthest room of the apartment, walking past the kitchen, bathroom, and another small bedroom.

Peter shut the door behind them, and she sent him a careful look as she sat down on the edge of the bed. For the first time in five years, she noticed that he had clenched his hands into tight fists.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned. His tone lacked any malice. He was trying very hard to glare at her, but he was truly too kind to do that.

She felt a pang in her heart, and her eyes dropped. "Is this . . . why you never let us come over?"

Hermione heard his steps get louder as he joined her on the bed and his shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice just barely audible.

Head craned to look at him, her hand immediately reached out to wrap over his. She tightened the hold, sending him a fierce look when she met his hesitant gaze. "You have _nothing_ to apologize for. If anything, I wish we had done more—"

Merlin, she was a terrible person! Granted that the small bit of distance that she'd felt with Peter was due to Granger's locked presence in her unconscious, but that didn't justify her being an awful best friend.

How did Peter possibly feel when Sirius was willing to save Abraxas Malfoy's life, but none of them thought to do anything for his mom?

She swallowed the bitter lump in her throat, a tear slipping from the corner of her eyes as soon as she saw his glittered eyes. "_Fuck_," she cursed, drawing a choked laugh from him.

"There's something about hearing you swear without hesitation that just," he shook his head, his tousled, chocolate hair following the movements, "I don't know - it makes me happy."

Hermione gave him a wry grin. "It is a pleasure of mine to make you happy, Mr. Wormtail," she teased, before a much more serious look slid over her face. "But you know that we need to talk about this. How can you not hate us after saving Abraxas, but not paying attention to your—"

"Because I didn't tell you of how she was really doing," he cut her off with a sad smile. He sighed heavily, his gaze dropping down to her hand. "I don't know why I didn't. I guess I just . . . I wanted to be as cool as you guys, and not give you another reason to pity poor, shy Peter."

Her brows knitted together in conflict, she proceeded to give him a long stare. "I—_what?_ I know as a matter of fact that neither of us pity you, _at all._ Never have and never will. If anything, we've only wanted to help - which, by the way, we still do."

His head snapped up, and his expression shifted into one of disbelief, which she ignored and continued, "Not to mention how _cool_ you are. You're so talented with any form of art, that I can't help but envy your skills. You make me remember that a quill is not made to only write!"

"Are you serious?"

She bit down a 'wrong twin. Sirius is at home'. Instead, she nodded vigorously and shifted forward in excitement. "Let me remind you that being good at certain academic classes does not define how intelligent you are. If I can be bright regarding some skills, it's the same for you with artistic ones."

His lips shifted into a small _'o'_ as he stared at her in surprise, his head tilted. "So - I'm worthy of being a Marauder?"

Hermione arched a brow. "More than me, that's for sure. Don't make me remind you of how easily you make those pranks possible. Not to say I'm not _impressed_, but seriously; always getting into trouble . . ." she continued to mumble under her breath, even as he finally grinned at her.

"That's right," he announced proudly, wiping away a few tears that had just slipped from his eyes. She sent him a worried look, and he finally relented. "We really need help, Hermione. She's too proud to ask for help, but I don't know for how long she can work in this state - especially once I go back to Hogwarts."

"Don't worry," she whispered, giving his hand one last squeeze before she stood up. "You spend just a bit of time with the boys back home, while I go see Uncle Alphard. He'll be more than willing to anonymously send enough Galleons in her account for her treatment."

* * *

"Shopping?" Peter squeaked and stared at Hermione with wide, blue eyes.

Once she'd gotten done with the formalities and gotten through just enough teasing from her uncle for being with James, he'd finally let her go and told her to give her best friend the happiest birthday ever.

So, Hermione looped her arm through his, and she grinned up at the boy. "Yes, Sir! Come on, tell us what you're hoping to buy the most."

His eyes roamed around the giant mall, pausing briefly at the arts supply store before he quickly looked away. Remus seemed to have noticed as well because he approached him with a wide smile. "Caught you. Let's go."

Sirius slung his arm around the birthday boy's shoulders and began to lead him towards the small store, while her and James remained in the back.

James showed her his hand, wide eyed and lips pursed into a pout. "Do you see this?"

"Remus, stop looking at the bloody bookstore!" Sirius complained loudly in the background, but her attention remained trained on her boyfriend.

She merely raised a quizzical brow. He sighed dramatically, wiggling his fingers to emphasize a certain point. "It's _lonely._"

She bit her lip to stifle a smile, and she brought his hand down so that she could hold it. "Is your hand happy now?"

He leaned closer and placed a chaste kiss over her cheekbone. "Very," he said cheekily, looking ahead for a moment to make sure that they weren't too behind. "I'm so lucky."

Her steps halted abruptly, causing him to glance back at her as her eyes dropped to the ground.

Was he truly lucky? Or was it just the calm before the inevitable storm that will leave him regretting having anything to do with her?

"Hermione?"

There was a chance that he could get hurt.

She looked up again, her hold on his hand tightening as she gave him a hesitant smile.

But she could keep him safe, and she _will._

His smile widened and he urged her to enter the store, his jaw falling slack in wonder as he looked at the numerous kinds of supplies.

Hermione's gaze immediately swept over the place to make sure nothing was amiss, pausing briefly on the Marauders to make sure they weren't causing any mischief.

And as she hurried to stop the set of acrylics from falling—all due to _Sirius's_ brash movements—she decided that she will do anything to keep _all_ of her boys safe.

For the meantime, she narrowed her eyes at her brother, who scratched the back of his neck and shrugged at her. "What?" he asked.

He led her to where Remus was helping the boys figure out how to pay the cashier. "Mistakes happen. I'm only human, Hermione!" he cried out in a wounded voice, and she jabbed at his stomach.

"Fuck—"

"Language—I _think?_" She grimaced, realizing how much she'd been cursing in comparison to her first year self.

"_Oh, ho_." Sirius laughed in a wicked way, causing the young boy that worked at the counter to send a concerned look their way. "I know _exactly_ what you're thinking, twin."

"You don't," she countered flatly.

The rest of the boys sent them exasperated looks. "I do."

"You don't," she argued in a firm tone.

He glared at her. "I do."

"Do not."

"Do."

"Do n—_oh_." She was caught into a back hug from James, who urged them both to leave the store before they could get into trouble. His hot breath fanned against her ear and she forgot completely about the argument, leaning into her boyfriend's touch.

"_Good girl_," he whispered, and her eyes fluttered close, her legs wanting to give way almost right then and there. Her breath hitched when he placed a chaste kiss on the side of her neck and finally moved away, sending her a cocky smile.

She could barely hear Peter ask what else they had planned, and James stifled a laugh.

Finally out of the stupor, she blinked a couple of times before she answered, "Oh—yes, I somehow managed to get Led Zeppelin tickets for the evening. Let's get snacks in the meanwhile."

Sirius's jaw fell slack, and his face swam into her vision instantly. "I'm sorry. _Led fucking Zeppelin?_"

* * *

They spent their afternoon like that, messing around the stores and laughing at nonsensical things because of the sense of freedom that burst alive in their veins. They often paused to look at her and simply smile, glad that she was there, back at being by their side.

And when the time came to attend the concert, she allowed her breath to be taken away by how _handsome_ James looked as he kept his gaze on her, jumping up and down with a rush of adrenaline at the loud music that drowned in their ears.

It left her wanting to get closer and closer to him until she could drown in his presence.

_Oh, the fun to have_

_To live the dreams we always had_

_Oh, the songs to sing_

_When we at last return again_

The rest of the boys joined them, dancing crazily and mouthing the words as correctly as they could without bothering to feel any shred of embarrassment.

They were simply happy.

_If one bell should ring_

_In celebration for a king—_

—they all pointed at Peter at that, Hermione watching with a pleased smile as his head tilted back with a loud, carefree laugh.

_So fast the heart should beat_

_As proud the head with heavy feet, yeah_

Hermione was glad to be alive, and when she looked up at the swirls of lilac and orange in the sky, she hoped that her father was up there, somewhere - happy for them, as well.

.

A blanket of dispersed stars eventually covered their heads as they walked back through the streets, a relaxed sigh slipping past her lips when Hermione inhaled the fresh breeze.

Her eyes caught the flashy panel as Sirius went to mention how the tattoo place was actually owned by a wizard. How he'd come to find this information, she did not know, but she was still very intrigued.

_Intrigued?_ Granger commented slowly. _You're surely your brother's twin. He had so many tattoos by the time he left Azk—I'm sorry! I should have known better than to mention that._

_It's okay_, she murmured in her head softly, though her worried gaze pinned on her brother as he eyed the store enthusiastically.

Panic and apprehension burst alive under her veins at the reminder of destiny. Of everyone's. Of _hers_—the same one she was meant to reveal tonight.

Her eyes fluttered close in exhaustion. Could she really do it?

"Should we call for the Knight Bus? It's starting to rain," Peter squeaked as the rain showered down on them in light raindrops.

Groans rang in her ears and something eventually came out of her dry throat, not before she expelled another soft sigh.

"I'll side-apparate you guys — two by two, of course . . ."

Shocked silence settled around her, the atmosphere heavy with unasked questions. Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Remus cleared his throat, sitting somewhere on the floor in front of her. She had yet to look up from the white tiles. "You just apparated us home, Hermione," he tried in a neutral voice, though she could still feel a hint of confusion in his tone.

Hermione sent her brother a long look, who decided to call Regulus through the mirror, and placed it somewhere on Remus's lap. She would've laughed, had she not been about to reveal sixteen years' worth of secrets.

She almost backed out then, a shuddering breath leaving her mouth, but James wrapped an arm around her shoulders and placed a long kiss on her forehead.

His silent support comforted her more than anything, and her gaze immediately flew up in determination; her lips folded into a tight line before she spoke up:

"Over the past few years—this year especially—I may have acted in a way that probably confused you. I may even have lied to you in an obvious way, and if you noticed but chose to not point it out, I am grateful."

Sirius let out a not-so-subtle cough at the reminder of what _his_ behaviour had been like every time she had refused to tell him something, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"I think it's time I tell you about everything. How it all started before I was even born . . ."

She went on to talk about Granger and how she had found herself in a different dimension, asking Professor Dumbledore of what must be done, and him leaving fate in Hermione's hands.

"These tears that the phoenix put inside you - you still have them in your body?" Remus asked curiously, his brows drawn together.

James continued to rub her shoulders in reassurance.

She nodded. "They are. I've also been told that it could be fatal trying to put more in my body, say if I get bit by a Basilisk or something."

She frowned deeply, while the three boys looked mostly confused as to _why_ she would even imagine that happening.

"So anyways, over the years at Grimmauld, I didn't really notice much of a difference. It was when I stepped foot inside of Hogwarts, that my headaches and nightmares began."

"That's why you constantly struggled to sleep," Peter mumbled with a frown, and she sent him a small smile.

"Yeah - I must've worried you guys a lot, huh?"

He sent her an incredulous look over the fact that she was choosing to focus on how _they_ felt, and she awkwardly clasped her hands together.

"Right, _anyways_ . . . the pain in my head only got really bad when I first visited Malfoy manor. I realize now that it must've been because of the torture Granger went through there—"

She could see Regulus narrow his eyes in a glare at the realization. "Malfoy—"

"In her universe, Reg," she assured him with a firm look. "The Malfoys have done nothing to me in this one. So, for the most part, five years passed by with just headaches and awful nightmares," she continued with a shrug, and she watched as each one of the boys scowled, even Sirius.

He sent her an apologetic look at not having helped her during those times, and she shook her head softly before continuing.

"Remember when I told you guys about the Room of Requirement? It was actually Granger that showed me the memory. I am surprised at the fact that she trusted me enough for that," she muttered. "And after a certain _vision_ that I had—"

She could hear James's breath hitch. "Vision?" he breathed out in worry, making her turn to look at him. His dark brows were knitted together, and she cupped his face for a few seconds, simply comforted by the soft feel of his presence under her thumb.

Hermione nodded hesitantly. "Yes, and once I got Sirius to come with me to the Headmaster, we got to find out all about Granger and also the reason why I eventually received Seer-like powers."

Before they could interrupt again, she wasted no time in proceeding. "Through a certain offer, Snape decided to teach me Occlumency—not Potions, mind you. I _am_ good in that class!" Hermione sniffed haughtily in efforts to bring a smile on their face, but Remus just shook his head slowly.

She sighed heavily. "Remember that one time I had a fight with Sirius because Abraxas told me to come see him?"

"So _that's_ what the flashy fight was about?" Regulus questioned, and she arched a brow at him.

"Yes. I'll have you know that Kreacher took me there," she told him with a grin, and his eyes widened in surprise. It was only when she remembered what was to come, that she leaned against the front of the bed and chewed on her lip. "That's how I found out about the Prophecy."

Having it memorized from the first time he'd heard it, Sirius announced it in a clear voice as he looked at her square in the eyes:

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches . . . living to betray the kind he believes in, born years ago, twenty one days after a new year . . . and the Dark Lord is marked as their equal, but the saviour has power the Dark Lord knows not . . . and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives . . . the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord was born as a new year began . . ._"

James tensed by her side, and his hold around her tightened, while she watched all of their backs straighten in alarm.

"It's about you?" James rasped out, his breath heavy as he choked out the words. She could only watch as his hand ran through his hair and he lowered his head to look at her. "It's about you."

Hermione forced her gaze away from him. She couldn't bear to face the worry that sparked because of her. "It is."

"You don't have to tell them about Christmas," Sirius added in a whisper, but she gave him a sad smile that told him of what she'd planned - no hiding, not this time.

* * *

"I didn't mean to make you cry twice on your birthday."

Peter choked out a weak laugh, and James watched as Hermione wasted no time in making her way towards their best friend and giving him a tight hug.

He remained silent on the floor, his chest numbed with a heavy weight, and he forced his gaze up. She then hugged Remus and eventually tried to talk to her younger brother, her voice trembling.

"_Reggie_." She held the mirror in a tight grip, only loosening it when she brought the piece closer to her eyes, most definitely seeing the tears that streamed down the younger Black's face.

He caught a glimpse of Regulus shaking his head continuously, the back of his hand coming up to hastily wipe away the wet streaks. "I'm a terrible brother, Hermione."

Hermione went to protest, but her brother disappeared from the other side before she had the chance to utter even just a word.

The mirror fell back on Remus's lap and she whirled around to look at her older brother, who also looked like he was just a few moments away from breaking down, though James was sure _he_ was the only one who had known everything this whole time.

His heart clenched at the meaning _'everything'_ truly held. The Prophecy was what got to him—the sheer, underlying fear of ever losing her gripped at his soul coldly in a way nothing else could. He felt his eyes prickle at the tears protesting to leak out, but he couldn't just—just break down when Hermione needed him!

Her hesitant, soft caramel eyes finally settled on James, and that was all he needed to get up instantly, his strides long and quick as he cupped her face in his hands and rested his forehead against her own.

"I've got you," he told her softly.

He could never think of letting her go. She was more than his girlfriend, or the best friend he had for over five years. She was the girl that had let his head rest in her lap since day one, or the girl that had showed him kindness and love no matter how much of an arse he often was.

Hermione was fucking _everything_ to him. And James wasn't one to go down without protecting that everything with all he had. "You are not alone in this fight," he insisted in a gentle, firm voice.

Her arms sneaked around his torso and she hugged him tight, her breath warming his shoulder with its mere existence. He could feel the other boys wrap their arms around them in a group hug and he sighed into the embrace.

This was his _family_.

He was close to feeling even just a bit of reassurance in his chest, when Hermione sprung back, and she furrowed her brows at him.

"Wait—what do you mean by 'not alone'? You don't mean to join the Order, do you?"

He could feel his heart stop, and he gave her a long, unwavering stare. "I do actually," he told her, his own brows scrunched in confusion.

He watched her retreating back as she shook her head adamantly and headed towards her bed. "Yeah - _no_," she said immediately. James turned to look at Sirius's reaction at her words, but he didn't look surprised, at all. "I joined the Order because I got the proper training—because I _had_ to."

James rolled his shoulders back in frustration and grit his teeth tightly. "We can get it, too. We've been practicing with Sirius."

The girl looked away, while Remus let out a low growl and his eyes flashed amber as he said, "I need to help you, Cub. We all do."

Her gaze flew up and she narrowed it at the group. "Do you realize how much danger that will pose not only on you, but also me?" She shook her head once more. "If you join the Order, you will be the only thing on my mind. I'll be too distracted to get things done, guys! Why can't you just stay away?"

"Because we care?" Peter said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He glanced at each one of the boys and then looked back at the girl with not a shred of fear. There was only determination.

Even that still didn't change Hermione's mind. She clasped her hands together, and his fingers twitched as though they knew what they should be doing at the moment - comforting her to distract her from this habit.

The same one that had been present since Orion Black's death — which she blamed _herself_ for.

He understood now, the burden that she held on her shoulders. She was scared for them.

If something were to happen, she would definitely blame herself, only to also break in the end.

His eyes slammed shut at the panic that stirred in his guts. He couldn't bear to make her suffer more, but he needed to do something - to _help_ her.

"If you want to help, stay away from this mess," Hermione insisted in a firm tone, her eyes swimming in a pleading shine. Her panicked gaze then flew towards her twin, and she gestured for him to say something. "Sirius, you understand! Make them see reason."

Sirius folded his lips in a tight line. He gave out a loud sigh and then laughed bitterly as he sat down next to her on the mattress. "We can't join the Order, anyways—age limit, _hah_. I talked to Dumbledore and that's why he denied me, so there's no chance for you guys, either."

This seemed to be news for Hermione. She turned to look at her brother with wide eyes, while James urged the wheels in his brain to work. Surely, they could help without joining the Order.

Not to mention how at _ease_ Sirius looked, despite the situation his sister was in.

James caught Remus's eyes, and it appeared that they were both thinking something along those lines. He shook his head softly and approached his girlfriend, kneeling down in front of her. He noticed the pale colour of her knuckles as she clenched her hands together, and he placed his hands over them.

He stared up at those deep, penetrating eyes and could feel his throat go dry. He didn't think he could survive going a day without seeing them ever again.

James tried to gulp down the ball that ate at his words. He dragged his eyes away and raised a brow at his best mate.

"The Order isn't the only way we can help, Padfoot, is it?"

That was it. He could see an approving fire light up in his best mate's mercurial eyes, and the twin waited for Remus and Peter to join James on the floor.

He eventually pulled his lips into a small grin, and he chuckled. "Quick to catch that, were you?" Sirius glanced back at his sister, who looked more lost than James had ever seen her, even during the hardest stage of becoming an Animagus.

"That's right, little sister. While I was the only one _really_ aware of why I was training, now you've got a whole lot of these boys even more determined to help; to protect themselves and others - if not, of course, _you_."

Hermione's wary gaze swept around the group, her silence heavy with doubt and hesitance. She chewed on her bottom lip when they all decided to provide her with the widest and sweetest smiles to have ever seen the light of the day.

Remus, ever the one to reason, placed a placating hand on her arm, and she sighed contemplatively.

"Hermione, no matter what we do, it will be nothing compared to what you're going through; Granger's time travel, different dimensions . . . the Prophecy. I think you can handle knowing we are just training hard to protect and defend," the werewolf said dryly. A few strands of his bangs fell over his eyes, and Hermione swept them back with a deep frown.

"I guess . . ." she hesitated in a whisper. She glanced down at her lap, but James placed his fingers on her chin, forcing her to look up.

His thumb brushed against the delicate skin, and he smiled softly. "There is no stopping us, princess."

* * *

James should've seen it coming, but after the rest of the boys were forced into their respective rooms—still shaken from the weight of the night's revelations—James broke down completely.

Hermione headed to close the door, and he sat on the mattress with a locked jaw, shameless tears trailing hotly down his face. His exhausted arms barely held the weight of his face as he gripped at his hair.

You-Know-Who—no, _Voldemort_. She was supposed to kill Voldemort—this whole time, she'd been in danger—eventually, she will have to face him and—

—and only one will live.

Hermione will. Yes - he _knew_ she will; no doubt.

Except, the fear was still there.

He shut his eyes, despite the burn that came with the action, and Hermione wound her arms around his neck, settling on his lap as she pushed his hands away from his face.

She went to wipe his tears quietly with her slender, warm fingers. "I can't lose you," he rasped out softly, and her hand stopped for a beat before she resumed.

She gave him a half-lidded smile, but the mist in her eyes was still glaringly visible under the light. A tear slipped on his thumb when he stroked her cheek, and he sighed.

"I'll try my best to stay alive," she whispered. "Your cuddles are kind of worth living for, you know."

He snorted, and his other hand came up to cup her face. He watched as a curl danced close to her ear. "There's a _lot_ more things you haven't seen yet."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the innuendo. Another tear trickled down her face, and he could feel her finger wipe away his own. "You're an idiot," she murmured.

"_Your_ idiot."

She paused, her lips quirked up. "Yes. All mine to tolerate."

"Tolerate? I think that would be me with you!" James scoffed, feigning an indignant look just to see her grin like she usually did at his theatrics.

"You know you love me," she teased with a soft laugh, a tired smile now fully grown at her lips.

His hold on her tightened. His eyes danced over her face and he drank in everything about her.

James could never get enough of her.

He shook his head with a soft smile. "I do. _I love you_," he told her fondly for the first time ever, watching as a rosy blush spread over her freckles. He contained the urge to trace all of them as though they were constellations.

Hermione gave him a surprised, lovely smile, and her finger grazed at his cheekbone. "_I love you, too._"

"I need to protect you," he choked out, biting down his lip to contain the urgency he felt at the words. He could never handle seeing her hurt again.

She expelled a shaky sigh. "I need to protect you, too," she told him with just as much emotion.

"You're amazing." He gave her a kiss on her cheek, tasting the salty streak of tears that could not even be seen any longer.

But they still left a harsh mark at his soul.

"You're amazing, too," she whispered, her gaze dropping on his lips.

His heart filled with an insatiable desire for her love, presence and happiness. He couldn't hold back a small, adoring groan. "I want to get you tattooed all over myself."

"I want you to—wait, _you too?_" Hermione laughed, cupping his face and looking at him through narrowed eyes. "Where exactly would the tattoo be?"

His gaze flickered towards the clock that hung on the wall, and his hold over her tightened. It was late, but Hermione was worth it. A small smirk grew on his lips and he arched a brow at her. "Why don't we find out tonight?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I graduated today and . . . yes, very underwhelming, though I'm sure a breakdown is on its way :D Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the update. Feel free to let me know what you think about the chapter, or even the story in general! Words are not enough to tell you of how grateful I am for all the comments and kudos. Thank you so, so much!
> 
> Song credits: Achilles Last Stand by Led Zeppelin!


	56. Not Enough

**July, 1976.**

They got home from the tattoo shop very late, their clothes drenched by the rain in a way that left their lustful eyes fixed on each other.

Hermione couldn't tear her gaze away from the long and lean torso as James took his shirt off and threw it somewhere along the floor. Her eyes caught the newly tattooed letter _H_—right where his heart pumped beneath the skin—and she felt her own pulse quicken at the sight.

By the time they'd arrived at the shop and a young, blond wizard, Lewis McCante, had greeted them, she had already decided that she also wanted a similar tattoo - a _J_ in her case.

What left ardent love throbbing in her veins was the fact that like her, he'd made sure that the letter was written in the other's handwriting.

It was as though a piece of her was now part of his skin, and she took multiple steps forward until she could feel his hot breath fan across her face.

And though she'd insisted to keep the spot where _she_ got the tattoo a secret, deep down she wanted him to see it already.

His darkened eyes gawked at her chest, her white shirt doing little to hide the black bra that she wore underneath. She suppressed a bashful smile when his lips parted on a breath and a noise broke through his throat.

She raised her hand to trace the tattoo on his chest, and she revelled at the fact that the skin was soft despite the muscles. Merlin, bless Quidditch, indeed.

"What were you saying about Wizarding cameras?" he joked hoarsely, finally looking up to meet her eyes. She leaned in for a long kiss and that was all he needed for him to pick her up with one arm—as though she weighed nothing—and wrap her legs around his hips, his tongue plundering her mouth and flooding her senses with immense heat.

Her hands flew to his wet, disheveled hair, and he let out a small groan when her hips buckled forward.

When James broke the kiss, he blinked at her hazily as she took the opportunity to slowly take her shirt off and allowed it to fall somewhere close to James's.

Granger coughed awkwardly. _Silencing Charm—_ and the woman needn't to say more as Hermione hurried to cast the blessed charm on the room.

One arm still supporting her body up, his fingers grazed against the top of her breast that wasn't covered by her bra. The mere touch sent a jolt through her body, opening a heated pool of butterflies down her body.

She shivered against the heat of his presence, and he hesitated, giving her a long, smouldering look before he leaned down, and his soft lips met the delicate skin.

Her hands gripped his shoulders and she guided him back on the bed, falling on the mattress and James hovering over her.

His elbows rested on the sides of her head as he leaned in once again to pepper kisses against her jaw. Her eyelids fluttered shut when his mouth trailed down her throat, licking and nipping along the column of it.

Hermione tilted her head for him, and when she slipped her shaky fingers into his hair, he groaned lowly into the curve of her neck. Her core throbbed and pulsed at the sound, and she arched her back, her hands sneaking back to take her bra off completely.

James moved back with a deep breath, and he gave her a slow, adoring look. "Are you sure, Hermione?" he asked hoarsely, despite the flash of arousal in his eyes at the sight of her under him.

Her lips moved to his cheek, his jaw and against his ear. "I need you," she whispered, unable to keep the desire from her voice, and she vanished her bra silently.

A groan vibrated around the room and he instantly palmed her breast, rolling the nipple beneath his thumb. "Fuckin' beautiful."

A moan left her mouth, no longer able to restrain the sounds that continued to slip out of her mouth. "Merlin—"

"Name's James," he murmured lowly with a devilish grin as he looked up at her. Leaning back down, he swirled his tongue over the skin and sucked on the hardened nipple. She fisted his hair in her hands with a mewl, her head thrusting back on the mattress when he murmured against her skin, "_Hermione._"

"_James_," she gasped as he descended down her body and his tongue caressed the end of her purple scar. He continued to trail down to where the waistband of her skirt sat, a pulse to his kisses. "_Good girl_," he whispered, his glasses perched low on his nose as he peered up at her.

He paused briefly to reach for her left arm and place a soft kiss on the rough, carved words. "You are _perfect_," and his rough, deep tone meant that his words were final, and who was she to complain?

She swallowed a gasp, and with self-restraint out of the way, she tugged her skirt down, leaving him to breathe out a hot _'fuck'_ as he leaned away to stare at her - something akin to awe in his eyes.

"Do you want to see the tattoo?" she whispered, and he stopped staring at her legs for his head to snap up, a curious greed clear in his eyes.

"Yes—" and his gaze was then on it, his fingers tracing the inside of her left thigh as he leaned closer and placed a long, sucking kiss on the ink. With the way his hot tongue soothed the spot, she was sure he thought that the letter _J_ had never looked so beautiful, even in _his_ handwriting.

When he finally leaned away from the tattoo, he placed a warm, open mouthed kiss over the covered area. "I've never done this before," he confessed, looking down at her red, laced underwear and finally pulling it down when he received a nod.

He flushed faintly as he looked up at her with darkened, molten eyes; swirls of green and brows mingled with darkened lust. She would've laughed, had she not been thinking about her own lack of experience.

"Neither have I—but it's okay," she said, her hips jerking forward when she felt him suck on a sensitive spot, her eyes rolling back and toes curling in delight. "We'll—_oh, James_—we'll learn—"

James placed his mouth full over her core, his breath warm as his tongue darted out to her clit, and his groan vibrated through her like wildfire. "You taste so good," he murmured against her, "so wet already."

She gripped at the roots of his hair, pulling him as close as she could to her body, and he continued to taste her, his tongue moving in tandem with his two fingers like unrestrained magic. It left her struggling to say, "Yes, right there. I'm so close—"

Her chest rose at the sensation and she could feel herself pulsing, her eyes rolling back. She screamed as wave upon wave pooled inside of her and it finally burst out, her trembling body falling back, restless under him.

Hermione gasped for a deep, shuddering breath and peered at him through her lashes, sure that she was seeing stars. "_Fuck._"

She couldn't deny how _hot_ he looked as a smug smile grew on his lips and he tugged down his pants and briefs, leaving her no time to the imagination as she met the sight of his manhood, erected and hard with a faint shade of purple.

"You're _big_," she blurted out, and his smile only grew wider, stealing a long, slow kiss from her before he sucked tenderly along her neck.

"Bigger than my supposed ego?" he murmured, her breath hitching at the teasing buckle of his hips; his shaft rubbing against her wet folds.

"Yes. What are you going to do about it?" she whispered against his ear, and he leaned away to scan for her face for full consent.

"Are you sure? We don't have to hurry if you don't want to."

She rolled her hips at an unsteady pace. "I want to. Do you?" she struggled to let out, her brows knitted together when he looked away. "If you don't, it's fine—"

He laughed softly, pushing her to the side slightly to give her a light smack on the arse. A tingle of pleasure rushed all over her body, and his smirk told her of how weak her glare had been.

"I can barely control myself with you under me like that, princess. I'm just looking for my wand," he explained in a deep, throaty voice that sent yet another jolt through her.

His gaze swept along the floor until his hand reached down and grabbed his wand. He murmured the Contraception Charm, his darkened, hazel gaze pinned on her as he finally dropped the wand.

She could feel his tip against her swollen bundle of nerves, already coated with pre-cum. "I'll be careful," he whispered, and he inched further inside, sending her a worried look at her sharp intake of breath.

Her quivering muscles clenched tightly at his head and he gently pushed into her, strangling out a groan.

Fire soared through her body and her nails scraped his back as he tried to pull her closer. He hissed with a kiss under her ear as her clad feet dug into his arse and guided him to move faster now. "_Yes, yes, yes—_"

He reached down and stroked her sensitive nub again with his thumb to ease her pain, followed by a desperate, slow thrust of his hips. Her head fell back in ecstasy at the quickened rolls of his hips and the sweet murmurs that followed in her ears.

Huffing out a hot breath, James pressed his forehead to hers, her breasts pressed to his bare chest.

"You feel so good," he groaned, buckling his hips repeatedly as his fingers played with her nipple, pulling and grasping, till she writhed and stilled under him.

A rush of colours blocked her vision and a rush of pleasure stroked her body, milking his cock completely as he shuddered inside of her. Just a few seconds later, he spilled completely inside of her with a hoarse cry. A warm and slick feeling followed even as he went to remove himself from inside of her.

"_Holy shit_," he breathed out as he laid somewhere by her side, and she gathered enough energy to spell them both clean.

Hermione then turned to her side, her eyes taking in the smooth lines of his face. He shifted himself and moved his face very near hers, running his thumb down one side of her face. "I love you."

She tugged him down in a gentle kiss, cherishing the chance to just lay there, pressed flush against him as they shared a tender, soft kiss that left her melting in his embrace. "I love you, too."

James wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled Hermione into his side roughly. It made her squeal softly in surprise. "Was I good?" he asked cheekily, and she faked a thoughtful look.

"_Eh_."

A hitched huff escaped her when his lips stretched into that devious grin of his and his darkened gaze remained trained on her.

"I think you need a repeat of what happened," he murmured and - well, they did just that. They reclaimed the other's climax all night; gasping, heaving, swimming frantically in love.

Because neither of them truly forgot of that night's revelations. Especially not James, whose tears broke through the barrier he'd built in his mind, just as Hermione fell asleep.

It all came crashing down to him, to his trembling hands as he carded his fingers through her soft curls, and he choked down a sob.

He tried vehemently to remain silent—his Hermione needed all the sleep and rest in the world—but every single time he saw her lids shut, a terrifying image formed in his head.

One he couldn't bear to look if it were to turn into reality.

James Potter was a lot of things, but he had never been one to experience true loss. He didn't want to change that — no, not when he had gained more than he probably deserved over the years.

Though, he now _especially_ didn't want that to change for the girl he had fallen for.

He truly no longer felt that selfish, pompous git that he had been made out to be, and he impulsively gathered Hermione in a tight embrace, hoping he wasn't waking her up.

Just as his own lids fluttered close, one resolute thought remained in his mind like the cold fear that gripped at his insides.

_Fuck you, Voldemort._

* * *

_You-Know-Who's comeback leaves numerous families devastated with loss in just one night. Read more on pg. 13._

The Daily Prophet slipped out of her hold, settling quietly on the dining table in a flutter. "This is not good!" she exclaimed to herself, panic growing in the pit of her stomach, and the pleasant ache from last night leaving her body. "We can't just let it happen—"

_What can we do next?_ Granger questioned.

Hermione found that she couldn't just sit back and wait for Professor Dumbledore to return from whatever business he had overseas. She needed to get things done, and that meant talking to the only Death Eater she knew of and reluctantly trusted.

Looking over at the clock, she realized that everyone would still be asleep for a few more hours, so she could probably be back by then.

She grabbed the replica of Granger's beaded bag that she'd made a few weeks ago, the Undetectable Extension Charm on it turning out to be rather useful.

_You're welcome_, Granger said, a familiar haughtiness leaking in sharp and clear.

Ignoring the woman, Hermione pulled her hair into a tight ponytail and fisted her wand tightly, apparating to the grounds of Malfoy manor. She was as extremely glad that Abraxas had already thought of including her in the protective wards around the lot.

By the time she faced the large doors at the entrance, Dobby was there by the side to greet her. "Dobby welcomes Miss!"

"Hello, Dobby." She smiled down at the kind house-elf, who began to lead her to the living room with a skip at his feet.

Already used to being around for long enough now, she told him softly, "It's fine, Dobby. I know my way."

His wide eyes scanned for displeasure and when he didn't find any, he complied and disappeared with a crack, leaving her staring at the empty spot for a few seconds before she shook her head and made her way to the large resting area.

Not surprised to find Abraxas and Lucius up early, she shuffled over to where they were seated and collapsed on the couch, closing her eyes briefly before she pinned them on Abraxas. "Good morning."

Giving her a small smile, the older man opened his mouth to respond, when Lucius felt it fitting to get to the point. "Why are you here?" he questioned with a sharp glare.

He seemed to be in a rather foul mood, and she decided that it was best to tread carefully with him. "I need to know what Voldemort has been doing so far."

His already white skin paled further, and he grunted in an exhausted manner. "He's _barmy_," he said, and Hermione realized this was the first time she'd seen the elegant man so agitated. "He has been displeased with something that he can't seem to figure out."

She nodded slowly. Hermione had an idea as to what could've made him so infuriated—a piece of his _soul_ had been destroyed—and it left a terror growing in her mind as she thought of how far he could go if he were to find out what had truly gone down.

"Can't you tell me if the Death Eaters have any other attacks planned?" she pried, paying no mind to how desperate she sounded.

Lucius sent her a sneer, his blue eyes narrowing in a glare. "Death Eaters don't _plan_. The most I can do is inform you of the attack - if I have the chance to use the coin, that is."

She glowered at him and settled further against the couch; her eyes fluttering shut until Hermione felt her coin heat up and her gaze pinned on the message she'd been sent.

_Order meeting at 8:00 a.m. — I.B._

She was relieved at the chance of finally getting something done.

* * *

Ilana Bones was a tough woman. Hermione had known that the moment she had met her for the first time, watching in awe at the blonde's return from Auror training.

In less than a year, Ilana had been trusted with the most challenging missions, not giving up on her job even when she had to move away to Scotland after she had her daughter, Julia Bones.

It seemed that she had managed to convince her husband, Russel Bones, to move back to England—the man perfectly aware of the danger that came with it, but relenting because he was too besotted with his wife—Marlene's words, not hers.

And as she gazed at the fierce woman in front of her, Hermione couldn't really blame him. She had a sharp strike to her personality that demanded everyone's respect, no matter how filled the room was.

_Just like you, in a way_, Granger informed her, though Hermione doubted that was right.

Dorcas Meadows was by the woman's side like the best friend she was, and she narrowed her eyes at Hermione. "Have you done anything so far?" she questioned.

Hermione jutted her head in a nod, arching a brow at the woman. "I have, actually. The Headmaster would confirm that for me, but pity he isn't coming back until tomorrow. Have _you_ done anything?"

Ilana sent her a pleased smile, and she laid her arm around Dorcas's shoulders, a useless attempt to placate her best friend's annoyance. "We've been trying to locate the Death Eaters' hiding spots."

Hermione dragged her eyes away from the two women as Benjy cleared his throat and glanced at Hermione. "You-Know-Who seems to have a lot of influence on the Ministry, so Dearborn and I have also been trying to keep an eye on each of the departments."

She hummed thoughtfully. A part of her urged to ask for help with the hunt for the next Horcrux—sounding an awful lot like Remus—but the other insisted that she was _just_ _fine_ getting things done by herself.

_Wait— _Granger interrupted, her tone bleeding with worry. _What do you mean 'by yourself'?_

_Well_, Hermione found that she couldn't wait another day.

Benjy placed a hand on her shoulder to catch her attention. She glanced up at him, and he gave her a tired grin. "Hey! Still meeting with Marlene today?" he asked, his eyes silently pleading her not to say anything about the breakup.

Hermione sighed. She had forgotten about the plans she'd made with the two. "I'm sorry, Benjy. Not today."

Benjy's scrutinizing gaze danced over her face, and he eventually smiled slightly. "It's okay. You know not to let their words get to you, right? You're doing enough."

_Not really_, Hermione thought bitterly. _It won't be enough until Voldemort's body falls to the ground in front of my eyes._

* * *

Despite Granger's heavy disapproval, Hermione made use of the woman's memories to find her next location. It didn't take long for her to locate the remains of the Gaunt shack, barely visible through the many weeds and bushes.

The sound of the heavy wind blurred in her ears as she realized that, despite what she'd seen in her memories, there were _no_ enchantments there for her to dismantle.

Still, she stepped foot inside hesitantly, taking in the sight of the place that had somehow managed to remain up.

The wooden floor beneath her creaked loudly, and she gulped down a lump in her throat as her wand went to search for any life-threatening spells put around the place.

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding when she was informed that it was safe—_way too safe_—for her to move across the room.

Her gaze immediately landed on a piece on the floorboard that stood out in comparison to the rest, and she levitated it away, slowly moving closer to peer at the dark that surrounded the hole.

"Lumos," she murmured, waving her wand around more and more desperately to find a golden box—_any_ box at this point.

But then, the realization came that there was _nothing_, and she stumbled back shakily with a shocked gasp. _How—_

They had been so confident that Granger and her memories of the other dimension were the key to Voldemort's defeat, that they didn't consider the possibility of what was going to be _different_.

Hermione thought of the diary that she'd never found in Malfoy's study—the few change ups with the timeline—

—they were _fucked_.

_Hold on_, Granger tried to reason as she recovered from the shock. _There has to be some other obvious place in which he could've hidden it but . . . where?_

Hermione desperately rifled through her nightmares, visions, _anything_ that could hint at where he could've possibly placed a memory of his family—the same one that had left him alone.

All by himself . . . in an orphanage.

"The orphanage!" she breathed out, turning on the spot instantly. She chanted the name of the place in her mind like a prayer, pausing briefly to consider waiting for the Headmaster.

But the man had died due to this particular Horcrux, and she couldn't take any more chances - not with the knowledge she had.

Yes - Hermione would have to solve the mystery by herself.

* * *

Wool's Orphanage was a grim place.

After soon remembering one of Abraxas's letters in the past and realizing that this _had_ to be the Muggle place that Riddle had visited, Hermione was slightly more convinced as her gaze swept over the high railings covered in rust.

The square building seemed quite run-down even on the inside, and she moved inside, still covered by the Disillusionment Charm.

Despite the initial impression, she couldn't deny that the interior looked much cleaner, despite the known fact that the place had been shut down for several years now.

Now though, there was no Miss Cole, and unease twisted in her stomach as she thought of what might've been done to her.

Granger shooed the thought away for her, and she was thankful for that.

The grey walls surrounded her sight, not helping much in guiding her to the rooms the children had been assigned with. She dragged her eyes away from a shattered window, and instead hurried to move up the stairs, covered in a dusty, blue carpet.

One she was upstairs, Hermione made a sharp turn to the right and moved down to the last room in the hallway, just like Professor Dumbledore had done on his way to meet Tom Riddle for the first time.

"Alohomora," she murmured, her wand pointed at the chipped knob as the door clicked. Exhaling heavily, her foot pressed for it to open wider, and she took in the sight of the same, ridiculously small room.

There was only space for a single mattress and a coffee table, the rest of the little space left unoccupied. Just like she'd done at the shack, she searched for any dangerous enchantments, and she suppressed the relieved anticipation that rippled through her at finding _way_ too many.

This time, Hermione took her time to dismantle them carefully. Eventually, she took a deep breath before stepping inside, the heels of her boots tapping against each wooden tile until she finally found one that sprung up at the force.

Levitating the piece aside, she peered inside the space and her eyes were greeted by a small, golden box, covered in dust that flickered off as she levitated it on the floor. She charmed it open, watching as a golden ring inset blinked up at the light.

_Be careful_, Granger hissed, invading her mind with memories of Professor Dumbledore's blackened hand and the Resurrection Stone.

She blinked continuously at the images, and she nodded fiercely as they eventually faded away. "I know," she insisted adamantly. It was exactly why she hadn't wanted the Headmaster to accompany her on the search!

While she could handle the information regarding Deathly Hallows, she knew that even this dimension's Albus Dumbledore could still be haunted by the death of his sister, Ariana.

_And - well, what about Orion Black?_ Granger asked hesitantly. _What if you had the chance to revive him?—_

"Father would not want to be brought back to life in such a way, anyways—not that it's _possible_," she answered curtly, well aware of the man's opinions regarding unnatural rituals.

It was quite ridiculous, considering the Black family's reputation with blood magic and such, but that was how her father had been; or what she thought him to be, anyways.

Before her mind could stray away from the matter at hand, Hermione knelt and grabbed the ring gingerly, a sullen heavy rush of Dark magic settling in her mind. Gingerly, she placed the Horcrux in her purse. It was best if they didn't risk alerting Voldemort, and they waited to destroy any other pieces of his soul.

_Time to go home_.


	57. Earned Gift

**July, 1976.**

When Hermione returned to Potter manor, it didn't take her long to figure out everyone was awake—including her rather enraged twin, who was glaring at James like he'd been deeply betrayed.

His gaze flickered towards her as she walked in the living room, and his accusatory finger landed on her. "Don't tell me you got one, too!"

She merely raised a brow, concealing her bag from their view as she went to join James on the couch. "Is there a problem? I didn't know I wasn't allowed to get one," she said nonchalantly, and his expression shifted, him looking extremely affronted.

"I'm sorry?" He scoffed loudly, shuffling closer and taking in a stance that mostly _she_ used; his hands fisted on his hips as he stared at them both, disapproving. "I want one, too."

James snickered by her side, sneaking a glance at her and winking. "You want my initials on you too, mate?"

"Hush, James," she muttered, rolling her eyes at him before looking back at her brother. "What tattoo do you want? We could all get an animated, Marauders one."

He grinned at the suggestion. "I thought you were too good to be a Marauder," he teased, and her middle finger stood proudly to flip him off, eliciting a shocked gasp from him.

"How scandalizing!"

She thought back to what she and James had gotten up to last night and mumbled, "You don't even know half of it."

Sirius paused, his brows drawn together. "What?"

"Nothing!" James rushed to say, nervous laughter bubbling past his lips. "She's trying to get on your nerves."

Her brother eyed her appraisingly and eventually, he slumped down on the other couch. "Marlene was asking why you didn't come see her and Benjy."

"Benjy seems like a ponce, anyways—" James went to complain, but she cut him off with a smack on the back of his head.

"You were just jealous of his friendship with me."

Ignoring her bashful smile, he continued, "—And Sirius doesn't like him, either!"

Sirius grunted, flailing his arms around as though to gather back her attention and have her answer his question.

"Why was she asking _you?_" she asked carefully, and Sirius remained quiet. When she waited for a couple of seconds and he still refused to say anything, she expelled a resigned sigh. "It's because I went to Malfoy manor and then to an Order meeting."

"Oh," he said, and his grey eyes slowly narrowed at her. "Did you do anything?"

She gnawed on her bottom lip, chancing a glance down at James as he rested his head on her lap. Her hand carded through his soft hair, messing it up. "You know those objects I talked about—the ones I have to destroy with the Headmaster?"

Sirius cut her off. "Yes, I remember. Wait—you didn't go by yourself, did you?"

She felt James tense, and she grimaced. "Well . . . at least, I didn't destroy it?"

They both groaned.

.

Once Hermione finished her recollection of everything she'd done—which took longer than necessary because the boys kept interrupting her—she eventually looked around and asked, "Where did Peter and Remus go?"

"They had to go home," Sirius answered, sharing his Muggle motorcycle magazine with James, leaning against the arm of the couch and giving her a sideways look. "They wanted to see you but when they figured out that I was going to keep _discussing_ about Prongs's tattoo, they went home."

She hummed, deep in thought on what to do for the rest of the day. Eventually, she realized that she still needed to make sure her brother was doing fine after last night. "Do you want to go see Regulus?"

Her boyfriend let out a loud groan, his head hitting the small coffee table in front of him. "He's going to kick my arse," James grumbled, and when he straightened once again, she sent him a confused look. "Before you ask - I called him _adorable_."

* * *

"Do you not have a home of your own?" Lucius sneered, his gaze sliding from her to the boys. His nose scrunched up in distaste and eventually, he walked away from them, his arms folded in annoyance.

Rolling his eyes, Sirius slumped on a chair at the large dining table. "Been a while since we sat here together, Reggie."

Regulus remained quiet, staring at her until she joined them at the table. James hesitated but she gestured for him to come over, and he complied with a shrug. He ran a hand through his hair and sent her little brother a careful smile.

"I'm sorry for last night," Regulus said quietly once they settled down, his eyes dropping down to the grey, polished table. "I—I wish to help."

Hermione took a deep breath. Having gone through a similar situation less than a day ago, she was actually prepared for it this time. "Do you really want to?"

"Yes."

"Then, stay out of it," she said easily, her hand reaching out to place it over his own. The corners of her lips lifted into a loving smile, ignoring as he opened his mouth to complain. "I need you alive, Regulus Arcturus Black. So, if you really want to do something, stay out of it and train with the boys. Do you want to defend yourself?"

"And others," he added fiercely and for a moment, she wondered why he hadn't ended up in Gryffindor. She immediately realized that no one was fit for just one house, and _honestly_, it would've all been easier if house stereotypes had never existed.

Sirius cleared his throat, forcing her out of her thoughts. "Good," she told Regulus, squeezing his hand once before leaning back in her chair. Her brows furrowed when his chair slid back with a screech and he stood up.

Had she said anything that would make him want to leave?

Regulus leaned down and wound his arms around her neck, her head safely tucked on his shoulder. A shuddering breath escaped her, her eyes blurring as she shut them quickly.

"I love you, Reg," she whispered hoarsely, and she felt him give her a firm nod.

"I love you, too."

Hermione cleared her throat, holding back the rush of emotions that clogged it up. "Say, should we call Sirius over or just let him keep pouting?"

He snorted loudly, his chest rumbling, and he eventually said, "I suppose we could be charitable and let him join."

She hesitated. "And . . . James?"

There was a pause, and then, "Him, too."

So, they all crammed into a tight embrace because deep down, all of her boys had never been afraid to show affection and she was proud of them, no matter what.

_I am happy for you._

Thinking back to Granger's memories of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley—though, they had often made Hermione want to smack them for acting like prats towards Granger—she told the older woman, _I am happy for you, too._

* * *

While Hermione spent some time with Abraxas in the large Malfoy library—something Sirius had seen coming since the first time she'd heard about it—he decided that it was time to have some boys' talk in Regulus's temporary bedroom.

Sandwiched on the bed between his little brother and the one that he considered to be just about a few months younger, Sirius cleared his throat. "_So._"

Regulus tensed by his side, but stayed quiet—and James, being much more carefree with his words, mimicked a flippant, "_So._"

Sirius bit down a grin. "_So._"

And that was just enough to grate Regulus's nerves and get him to finally talk. "What?" he snapped, and he sat up slowly to look back at the two, his expression weary.

"All this must be hard to take in for both of you," Sirius prompted, and the tense silence that followed told him of how difficult it was to even _think_ about it.

"You knew from the beginning." Regulus made it a statement, and Sirius could tell that he was hurt by the fact.

A heavy sigh slipped past his lips and he nodded, his mind still haunted by his teary-eyed sister that had recalled what she'd been told in this same manor. Her voice had trembled in horror at the future that depended on her.

He had been terrified, too. He still was—that was for sure—but the determination that now swam deep in his veins somewhat distracted him from even thinking about the Prophecy and the unfairness of it all.

Especially the latter, as it would lead him to wreck everything that came into his sight - including Dumbledore's bloody glasses, with which he hid his bloody twinkling, blue eyes.

_Fuck them._

"I'm scared for her," Regulus eventually admitted in a small voice. Sirius was reminded of how young he still was, in comparison to what Sirius and Hermione had gone through.

He knew now why she wanted to keep them from sharing her experiences.

Not that it would change his mind.

He nodded again, his unwavering gaze meeting his brother's. He hoped that he looked gentle as he placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"I understand and trust me - I'm no better brother just for knowing about this before you. Sometimes, I think that she loves you more because of how badly she wants to protect you."

James hummed by his side, sitting up as well to catch Regulus's gaze. "You have no idea how much she rambles on about you all day," he told him with a small, fond grin. "If she could, she would drop everything and spend all the time with you."

Regulus scanned for any deceit on either of their faces, and when he found none, he nodded slowly. "I don't blame her. I'm better company."

Sirius scoffed loudly, putting him into a headlock before James did the same with _him_. "I must protect my future brother-in-law!" his best mate said pompously, completely forgetting that Sirius was going to be one, too.

When both brothers paused at his words and sent him long, narrowed looks, James chuckled nervously and leaned back, a tight smile on his face.

"You do know I'm going to marry her one day, right?"

"She's going to marry _you?_" Regulus sounded doubtful, and Sirius barked out a proud laugh at the man his little brother was growing out to be.

James looked as put off as a child that had been denied to go out and fly. "Yes," he bit out cockily. "If—_when_—all of this is over and we graduate, I will propose to her."

"It _is_ going to be over," Sirius made sure to say firmly, sending a fierce look at both boys. He waited until they nodded, and he sighed at the beige ceiling above. "How do you feel, Prongs?"

His best mate tensed by his side. "I'm not giving up on her. I'll fight for her for as long as I can, and if a time comes where I have to stand in front of Voldemort for her, I will."

Regulus finally sent the boy an approving look. "We all will."

"_We all will_," Sirius repeated.

* * *

"Hermione," the Headmaster chastised slowly, his blue eyes pinned on her with disappointment. "You shouldn't have gone by yourself."

"I couldn't wait for you," she said matter-of-factly. When he went to argue, she chewed on her bottom lip and interrupted him. "What I feel is necessary right now is to discuss this dead end."

He sighed deeply. "Indeed. It was foolish of us to assume that everything would be the same here. However, we must still check all the locations. Who knows? One of them might turn out to be a success like the Room of Requirement."

Hermione nodded, deep in thought as her gaze flew up to look at the man on the other side of the desk. "I should also think of where else they could be," she mumbled, a curl wrapped around her finger as she twirled it.

"Rest assured, we'll find them," he told her with a twinkle in his eyes. She merely cocked a brow when his hand dove down to open one of his drawers.

He placed a familiar blackened, Resurrection Stone on the desk. "You earned this, Miss Black. You must keep it."

She blinked in surprise, gaze flicking from him and then down to the powerful Hallow. "Are you sure, Professor?"

"When time comes, you will find it more useful than anyone else," he insisted, a cryptic edge to his voice that she'd grown to resent.

Knowing that it was no use to argue with him on the matter—and she _did_ hope to one day see her father like Harry had with . . . with her boys and Lily—Hermione gave him a reluctant nod, latching the unusual gift on her bracelet, next to her three Galleons. To others, the stone would only look like a cheap pendant.

"I'll be leaving then."

The Headmaster sent her a curious smile. "Do you have any plans today, Hermione?"

A wry grin seeped through her lips. "I must see an old friend."

* * *

Cokeworth turned out to be quite nice, several houses accompanied with large yards, full of clean, vibrant green grass, and gorgeous trees that played the calm rustle of leaves all day and night.

Her eyes fluttered for a second to revel in the quiet that came with the place, and she continued to walk down to what she believed to be Spinner's End and the door to Snape's house.

_Be careful_, Granger whispered. _He could still be having family problems._

_More of a reason to interrupt them_, she told the woman in her head. Her knuckles rapped against the old, chipped wood several times, moving back only when the door was pulled open and she met the sight of a very flustered Snape.

He was in his boxers still - despite it being - _what? seven in the evening?_ \- and after they stared at each other wide eyed, he slammed the door shut and only came back once he was properly dressed.

He grabbed the sleeve to her shirt and pulled her to the sidewalk, narrowing his dark eyes at her. "What are you going here, Black?" he snarled, and she felt a sharp, familiar kick in her mind that she didn't let bother her.

Dumbledore had told her that her Occlumency shields had gotten as good as _his_.

"I just wanted to visit you. What? No _'oh, I'm glad you're not dead after that attack, Black'_?"

He gave her a deadpan look. "You're standing in front of my house, so you must be doing well," he drawled in a bored tone, glancing down the street - probably to where Lily's house was. "Is that all?"

She squared her shoulders and shook her head firmly. "No, actually. Please, stay away from all those Slytherin mates of yours, Snape. You and I both know that they are looking to be Death Eaters in the future."

Maybe, they already _were_ Death Eaters.

The sour Slytherin didn't argue at first, watching her curiously as he took a step closer, his dark, piercing stare pinned on her. "Who are you to tell me what people I should be chummy with?"

She pressed her lips into a firm line. "You're dating Lily Evans, a Muggleborn. But that doesn't mean that you can't still be easily swayed into joining Voldemort's cause."

Snape flinched at the mention of his possible, future Dark Lord, and he glanced away, a bitter smile on his face. "So, it's _you_."

"What?"

"There have been murmurs among those _Slytherin_ _mates_ you were talking about; mostly about a certain Prophecy and betrayer to the Dark—You-Know-Who's cause. What other blood traitor would get exceptionally good in DADA and keep their friends from joining the enemy?"

Besides the fact that Snape had just considered himself her _friend_, she stumbled back on a few steps, her wand burning under her sleeve. She swallowed thickly to keep her throat from going dry. "I don't know what you're talking about. Are you going barmy, Snape?"

He rolled his eyes at her and crossed his arms. "Unlike You-Know-Who and his followers—including your deranged cousin, by the way—I am not stupid," he spat. He waved his wand to place a _Muffiato_ over them and continued, "Don't worry. I'll keep your little secret and . . . and stay away from them."

She allowed her booming heart to calm down, and she stepped forward to pat his shoulder, a hesitant smile on her face. "That's—that's _sweet_ of you," she told him, unable to contain her surprise.

He rolled his eyes, a slight frown on his face when he looked down at her. "Do you want to come in?" he asked hesitantly, immediate regret taking over his face once he finished.

Hermione stared at him. "You—" she shook her head slowly, amazed, "Are you sure? I mean - is everything okay at home?"

"My father is no more," his lips thinned, and he bore his dark eyes into her gaze, "everything is okay."

"_Oh_," she let out, feeling awfully small and uncertain on how to react. "I'm sorry—"

"Cut the Gryffindor shit and come inside," he said sharply, and she followed him inside to the living room in hurried steps. Her gaze swept over the dark room, its only source of light being the window on the side.

She sat down on a small, green velvet chair. "How have you been? I guess I should congratulate you," she paused and gestured at him awkwardly, "for finally winning Lily's heart."

Surprise took over his face and she saw him _blush_ — actual bright, red spots on his previously pale cheeks. "It was already _mine_," he told her faintly, clearing his throat. "But thank you."

Hermione gave him a small smile. He looked genuinely happy and no matter the five years old animosity between them, she was content for him. "Lily is lucky to have you."

Snape looked over her carefully then, a heavy sigh escaping his mouth. "I think you must know that she _is_ sorry for what she did. Not that I knew what she had really done at the time, but you must know that she didn't think it through."

"She's a smart witch," she murmured with a casual shrug. She had preferred not to think about the redhead for a while now. "I'm sure she has learned from her mistakes. She's happy with you, and I'm happy with James."

Snape scowled at the mention of her boyfriend but remained quiet. She allowed a comfortable silence to lay over their new friendship briefly before she sent him a wry grin. "I heard that you stood up for me with Sirius."

The Slytherin huffed loudly, narrowing his eyes at her. "I knew those baboons wouldn't keep that to themselves," he complained loudly, as though she wasn't in the room. "But yes, I did. You're welcome."

This time, she was the one to roll her eyes. "It was quite _Gryffindor_ of you," she teased, ignoring his frown that deepened by the second. "Before you know it, you will have to actually braid Sirius's hair!"

Her eyes sparkled with amusement even as he stood up at an instant. "You're getting too comfortable," he growled at her, grabbing her arm and leading her away from the living room with a scowl. "Goodbye, Black."

When they stopped by the doorway, he went on to say, exasperated, "And for the love of God, stop putting yourself in danger and stay safe."

Hermione didn't bother turning around, as Snape would have noticed her surprised and yet, pleased smile at his kind words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I would appreciate any kind of feedback, and kudos.


	58. Jam

**July, 1976.**

It was almost three in the morning, when James woke up to an empty bed, rid of the warmth he had so gotten used to having by his side.

His brows drawn in confusion, his mind provided him with a list of possible things she could be doing—him almost immediately cancelling out anything Order related to soothe the worried clench of his heart.

Now wearing slippers, he shuffled away from the bedroom and moved down to the faint light coming from the kitchen. A relieved whoosh left his mouth when he heard her mumbling from all the way to the doorway.

He bit his lip, restraining a laugh as he watched her spread strawberry jam on a piece of bread, the focused look etched on her face similar to what he'd always seen during exam season.

He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as his gaze followed her movements. When she stood up and moved to put the pack of bread and jar of jam back into the fridge, he pushed himself off the wall and approached her.

Clearing his throat, he allowed a mischievous grin to seep through his lips. "What are you—"

A loud gasp left her mouth when her head snapped up from the fridge door, and he failed to block the piece of bread with jam that was aimed right at his face. It slid down his forehead and he let out a loud groan at the feel of slimy jam on his skin.

"Why?" he cried in a hushed, wounded voice, and she was by his side in an instant, mumbling a Cleaning Spell that removed all the sweet fruit preserve off his face.

Hermione pecked his cheek, lingering in a way that had him lean into her touch. "Sorry, baby."

"Merlin give me strength. I'm not a _baby_," he insisted with a horrified look. She ignored his pout and leaned forward; her gaze focused on his forehead to check if it was all clean.

When she moved back, he could see her amused grin even in the darkness because - well, she _was_ the light of his life.

He was getting more corny day by day, and the thought left him wondering how much sweeter she will make him by the time they'll be too old and wrinkly to have any chocolate.

He was sure Moony would still find a way.

"What's got you smiling so much?" she whispered, her breath warm against his lips.

He nudged her cheek with his nose and gathered her in his arms. "Our long age." He could feel her tense in his embrace and ignoring it, he eventually urged her to make another sandwich.

"Were you hungry, princess?"

"Merlin give me strength. I'm not a _princess_," she said mockingly, sounding _way_ too much like Sirius when he was being a little shit.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed a butter knife to spread the jam on the bread for her. Once he was done, he handed it to her and watched as she ate it with a content grin.

He sat down in front of her, and she placed one foot on his lap. "Cute."

"I don't know," she said with a shrug, a wry grin on her face as she eyed him carefully. "Someone else is cuter."

"Oh, yeah? Who is it?" A cocky smile already formed on his lips and he puffed out his chest, massaging her foot to keep himself in her good books.

And she _had_ been worrying and working all day and night for too long.

Hermione smiled sweetly at him. "Benjy."

A fierce fire ignited along his bones, his stomach thrumming with hot jealousy, and he sent her an exasperated look. "You're not going to forget about that, are you?"

She leaned forward, gulping down a small bite as she cupped his face with one hand and swiped her soft thumb along his cheekbone. "I'm just joking, James. It's fun to rile you up and . . . only you could look so _hot_ while being jealous."

The corners of his lips twitched, and he mimicked her sweet smile. "Right, Hermione. By the way, there's something about _red hair_ that just . . ." He sighed dramatically and sneaked a glance at her when he heard her chair slide back.

Straight faced, she pulled at his wrist and began to lead him back to their room. "I'll show what's better than red hair," she said calmly.

He immediately gave her backside a slow smirk, and he could feel himself twitch under his boxers. "I can't wait," he whispered against her lips as he turned her around, but he leaned away before she could kiss him.

Ignoring her petulant glare, he continued, "I love it when you get all riled up. It's _hot_."

"Then I should make you wait some more, don't you think?" she asked innocently, and before James could take in her absolutely _horrifying_ words and move to grab her, she took off at full speed towards their bedroom.

Trying his best to silence his soft chuckles, James followed her down to the hall and he grabbed her before she could reach the knob and open the door to their room.

Laughing at her squeak, he gripped her waist and turned her around, pinning her to the door frame with a slow smirk on his lips.

"Do you still want to wait?" he breathed, his breath hot against her lips, and the way she pressed her lips eagerly to his was enough of an answer as he calmly locked the door behind them and whispered all spells necessary.

.

And later that night, when they were gasping for breath, wrapped in each other's arms like always, Hermione decided to remind him of their earlier conversation.

"Our old age makes me smile, too."

Just like that, James continued to be the happiest man on earth.

* * *

There was something liberating about being able to leave the manor as freely as Hermione used to when the boys were still at Hogwarts. Granted that they now worried just as much as Dorea and Charlus did, she could just insist that she was going to be fine.

She admitted that it helped being able to distract them with their training.

When she was told by Alberforth—a somewhat Order member that she hadn't yet had the privilege to meet personally—that he had heard a distinct Russian accent in his pub, she couldn't just stay put.

She rushed to Emmaline Vance, who was also a Poltergeist, and convinced the brunette to give her a Polyjuice Potion. She would've made her own had she not been in a hurry, and Hermione was sure that Emmaline was never one to deny her requests.

Not every Order member questioned her existence like Dorca Meadows.

Biting down a scowl, she wandered around Muggle London for a few minutes and purposely ran into a young, redhead woman, grabbing a wayward strand of hair from her shirt before she could notice.

After that, she moved to a dark alleyway, drank the Potion, and apparated right in front of the Hog's Head, taking in the surroundings with reluctant eyes.

As she moved inside and looked at the dirty glasses placed right at the counter, she realized why most students didn't visit this place. She felt bad, but this was no time to worry for the old wizard, who arched a stiff, grey brow at her. "Can I help you?"

Hermione idly raised her hand and her fingers played with the coin hanging from her bracelet, dropping it only when Albeforth noticed the Galleon and nodded slowly.

"Alright, down to the farthest private room," he began, taking in her red hair, and he sighed heavily, "on the right."

"Do you have a tray with the drinks they ordered?" she asked, momentarily taken aback by how sweet and delicate her voice sounded. "I need to act like a server."

He huffed out a breath and pushed the tray in her hands. "There you go."

She sent him a grateful look and moved away, approaching the room as she was instructed to. She could hear another man in the room, laughing coldly at something Dolohov had said.

Were they so arrogant that they hadn't even thought of placing a Silencing Charm?

She plastered a wide, sweet smile that had her stomach churning, revolted when the door opened, and she was met with appreciative stares.

Forcing a pleased smirk on her lips, she recognized the second man as Rodolphus Lestrange—her cousin's now husband—and she found the match to really be perfect.

Both sickening people.

Her eyes then took in the cocky posture of Dolohov, his legs sprawled out as he leaned back on his chair and raised a brow at her. He sniffed into the air when she placed the tray down on the large table.

What a _dog_.

"Hello, boys," she greeted in a coy voice, wiggling her fingers in a wave, her nails coincidentally painted in a perfect, Slytherin green shade.

Rodolphus whistled lowly, his dark gaze lingering on her bare legs. He glanced at the other Death Eater and pushed his shoulder. "_You're_ not married, Antonin."

Dolohov smirked, rubbing the dark stubble along his jaw. "That's right. Didn't know Hog's Head had _whores_ now," he murmured, patting down on his lap and raising a pointed brow at her.

She masked her annoyance at his behaviour, instead giving in to his order and gingerly sitting on his thighs, her hands clasped together tightly.

_You can do this_, Granger supported her fiercely, and Hermione hoped she really could.

Dolohov grabbed her waist tightly, his nails digging into her skin as he rubbed his nose against the long sleeve of her dress and let out a shuddering breath. "Lovely scent."

Rodolphus laughed shortly. "Don't go acting like Greyback, friend."

Apprehension washed over her when she realized who the name belonged to—the same man that had forced Remus's life to be changed forever.

Her hold on her hands now tightened painfully.

"Is he still recruiting other werewolves?" Dolohov asked sharply, his eyes narrowed at Rodolphus.

The raven-haired man simply shrugged, a hideous grin on his face. "He is, but why should we care? He needs to make himself useful before another _army_ catches up to them."

Dolohov smirked. "Then, your wife . . . she is pleased with having more _alone_ _time_ with the Dark Lord, yes?"

Instead of replying, Rodolphus leered down at her. "I should've married someone like _her_," he murmured, the rough pad of his finger trailing up to her knee.

Hermione swallowed the bitter lump in her throat. She composed herself before she could lose control _and_ the chance to find more information. "Then why did you marry her, young man?" she slurred deeply, briefly moving away from Dolohov's lap to cup the other man's cheek.

When she leaned back, Dolohov had her stuck on his lap. "Don't move," he whispered in her ear, his loathful voice making her stomach churn unbearably.

Rodolphus sighed, nodding along to her question. "My younger brother got so much attention, even a fucking _gift_ from Him today," he spat, glancing at her carefully to see if he wasn't letting out too much information.

When her face remained impassive—despite her mental note that she needed to learn more about what gift he was talking about—he continued, "So, I thought if I married his . . . favourite _follower_, he might be pleased with me, as well. What do you think?"

_What? _Was Hermione going to suffer through a counseling session between the two Death Eaters?

She smiled, wide with all bright teeth showing. "One must not be greedy in marriage," she said, a cryptic edge to her voice that reminded her of the Headmaster.

Hermione opened her mouth to continue when she felt her coin heat up against her wrist, and she gingerly stood up, making her way towards the door, her eyes still pinned on the two men.

"My shift is almost over . . . but, I hope to see you again, _soon_," she lied, a wink thrown Dolohov's way before she hurried to move as far as possible from the room.

.

Hermione had assured Albeforth that she was fine—a quick lie because she could feel a breakdown coming and did not fancy having it in the middle of a pub—and she apparated back into her room, her fingers clutching at her soft hair as she fell onto the mattress.

Her eyes prickled as she stared up at the white ceiling, and she let out a loud groan. "I hate men."

Biting down the rush of emotions, she then went to check the message on the Galleon instead, surprised to have received a message from Malfoy.

_There's a problem — L. M._

She was up in an instant, intent on apparating right then and there, when the door pulled open and James stood in the doorway, his hazel eyes wide.

"Who the bloody hell are _you?_"

Hermione's jaw fell slack. She had forgotten that she was still Polyjuiced!

"Hello?" she tried, grimacing when her voice sounded nothing like hers. She approached him with tentative steps, her lips twitching when he kept his eyes away from her legs and he mostly looked absolutely apprehensive. "Relax, Jamsie. It's Hermione."

"No," he said pointedly. His finger aimed at her, and he shook his head like a little child. "Hermione has beautiful, caramel eyes, and her hair is a bit more of a curly mess, light brown with golden streaks—"

"You don't like redheads?"

He spluttered. "I like Hermione Black. So please, don't use her awful nickname for me. Only she can."

Hermione could feel herself get shorter, her hair taking in more of a frizzy volume as she finally grabbed her wand and Accio'd her proper shoes that actually fit her. "Does that mean I can call you Jamsie?"

"_Hah!_ I knew there was something weird going on," he said, his tone swimming in wonder as he finally saw her for who she was. He grinned wryly, before his expression shifted into one of confusion. "But why did you Polyjuice yourself?"

Her smile faltered slightly, and she moved towards her closet, opening it and searching for proper clothes. When she felt his breath, hot against the back of her neck, she pulled her dress over her shoulders and sighed. "I had to disguise myself and talk to two Death Eaters."

"You say it so casually, like it's nothing," he murmured, giving her a sweet, innocent back hug, despite the fact that she was half-naked at the moment.

James Potter was the only man _ever_.

_The other Marauders will probably be hurt if they hear that_, Granger told her, and Hermione secretly apologized to the boys in her mind.

The Marauders were the only men _ever_.

"I am terrified by what you just said, but are you okay? If those bastards even tried anything on you—"

"I had to sit on Dolohov's lap," she confessed, her voice breaking as she thought of the same man that had rendered her useless for so long. "And—and Rodolphus touched my legs, and they were eyeing me so awfully, James. I hated it."

The way his hold tightened on her was nothing like the way Dolohov had gripped her, and Hermione found herself shuddering a relieved breath in his arms.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he murmured softly, his warm hand running soothing motions on the arch of her waist. "You are safe, Hermione. I wish I could fucking kill them—"

She whirled around, immediately cupping his face, and her gaze scanned the fury that was etched on it. He clenched and unclenched his jaw under her gaze, and she shook her head firmly.

"Like you said, I'm okay. What I _don't_ want is to find my boyfriend in Azkaban. When the time comes . . . we can both have our revenge."

Her eyes caught yet another message from Malfoy, and she moved back with a frustrated groan.

_Are you coming? — L. M._

"I have to get dressed and see Malfoy."

His lips lifted into a sad smile. "Do you have to?"

Hermione gave him a tender kiss, relishing the press of his warm, sweet lips against her own. His thumbs grazed against her hips, and her whole body hummed in approval. She had to pull back though, begrudgingly.

"I'll be back soon. I doubt it's anything serious."

* * *

"What is it?"

Malfoy finally looked up at her, a relieved sigh slipped past his lips in a way that left her surprised. He tipped his head back to swallow the last sip of wine, and he ordered, "Sit."

"Where's Abraxas?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, jerking his head behind her, causing her to crane her neck and find the older man strolling towards them, his hands locked behind his back and worry etched on his face.

"Thank Salazar, you're here," Abraxas finally exclaimed as he sat by her side. He pulled her into an embrace before he let go and searched for any injuries with his wand.

"Where did you learn Healing spells?" she asked, her brows rising up to her forehead in surprise.

"Andromeda," he replied shortly, his distressed gaze then sliding to his only son. "Lucius, tell her now."

Malfoy wasted no time, slamming the glass on the counter of his personal bar. "The Dark Lord has ordered me to find anyone born on January 21st. Be it an infant or someone born before him, he wants a full list."

"But the Prophecy says 'years ago'," she argued, looking back at Abraxas, agitated.

"He is so desperate to find the right person that he has lost reason. It won't be long until he learns of your involvement. Lucius must remove your name from the list," Abraxas explained, to which she shook her head immediately.

She stood up, pacing in between the two Malfoy men. "But he can hurt more people for being simply born on the same date as my birthday. _Sirius_ is one of those people—no! I can't be selfish."

"Sit down, foolish girl!" Abraxas ordered, but she ignored him. He raised his wand to force her back on the couch, but she blocked him silently, sending him a tight glare and noticing the shock etched on his face.

"You learned this from who?"

"Alastor Moody," she replied stiffly, glancing at Malfoy and noting that he was just as surprised, if not apprehensive of her skills.

"Father, this merely proves that her invite for the wedding shall not be cancelled. She can protect herself."

"Lucius—"

"I'm sorry. Do you not realize I'm in the room?" she asked hotly, continuing to pace as her mind reeled and she was reminded of the wedding that was happening tomorrow.

The full moon was going to be tonight, and they had planned to spend it on the Potter grounds—after receiving Charlus and Dorea's permission, of course. Still, she was sure she could avoid the morning nap they usually had after and make it for the wedding. "I'm coming, _definitely_. Riddle is going to be there?"

Malfoy hesitated. "He'll be masked, but yes."

She nodded. He certainly could no longer show his face; nose now gone, and eyes permanently bloodied with red.

"Well - there you go," she said as she threw her arms up in the air and paused, reminded of her talk with the two Death Eaters today. "Did anything happen with Rabastan Lestrange?"

Lucius looked intrigued at the mention of his name, and he nodded slowly. "Young Rabastan . . . he was offered to hide something today."

Hermione nodded, and after much contemplating on what to do with the information, she decided that she needed help from her younger brother to gain access to the very young Slytherin.

Regulus had continued to fake his 'friendship' with the boy to keep their mother happy, and she was sure that if Rabastan agreed to it, he could also be able to visit his house anytime.

She looked to the side, where Regulus had discreetly entered the room and kept a silent watch at everything that was being discussed. When he met her gaze, he seemed to understand what she needed, and he nodded with a sly grin.

"I can plan a visit next month. He's been quite busy lately."

Hermione approached him in quick steps and engulfed him into a tight hug. "It will have a very Dark aura to it. You'll know when you see it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this update! The pace of the story is going to get much faster as we progress now, and I'm hoping that my updates will be just as quick. Feel free to let me know what you think about the chapter or even the story in general.


	59. Mates and Weddings

**August, 1976.**

"Why can't we come?" Peter asked curiously, sipping on the delicious milkshake Mipsy had made for them.

Hermione didn't ask for one, mostly because of the bile that would've risen up her throat due to the nerves, and she was instead content with just watching the boys drink it.

Remus got a special, chocolate one—as he had been up all night being a werewolf—and she _did_ get a sip of that. Though, she hadn't realized that her need to also have an alert mind after being awake all night would bother him.

"Get your own!" he spat bitterly, pushing his chair away from her, his sharp eyes narrowed at her.

At the loud volume that he rarely used - especially on her - she blinked in confusion. "I was just getting one sip," she insisted, to which he scoffed loudly and eyed her with distaste.

Taken aback, she fisted her hands tightly and stood up. "What's got you so bothered? Don't take your frustration over Regulus out on me—"

He peeled his lips back from his teeth in a snarl, and he stood up as well, getting all in her space. "What did you just say?" he gritted out, his eyes shifting into a bright, amber shade, and all exhaustion from last night had worn off him now.

She barely had time to register the change in the colour as his fingers latched on her arm and he dug his sharp nails in her skin. She eyed her best friend in shock when she felt her wound from Bellatrix threatening to re-open.

Suddenly, James appeared in the room, lunging forward to push Remus off with all the strength he had, and they watched as he fell to the floor.

Growling loudly, he glared at her. "Fuck you!"

"What the fuck is happening here?" her twin questioned, rushing inside the room to help Remus up and check his bruised shoulder.

Hermione stayed quiet, her gaze still frozen on her best friend—the one she'd just - just _angered_. "He—he's mad at me?"

She stumbled back and James was by her side, grabbing her arm to support her. He pushed her sleeve up briskly, checking her arm carefully as Peter glanced at Sirius with wide eyes.

"Remus got a bit . . . _pissed_ after she took a sip from his milkshake. They had a small row and when she mentioned Regulus, Moony took over—more aggressive than usual—and he grabbed her. Padfoot, she _had_ to push him off."

She could feel a tight pressure in her chest, and her throat constricted painfully as broken words spilled out of her mouth. "Did I do that to him?" she asked weakly, her eyes flicking to where Remus was struggling in her brother's hold.

_Hermione_, Granger began softly. _You did nothing._

She watched numbly as James and Sirius struggled to make Remus drink the chocolate drink and bring him back into his senses. It took some time, but the boy eventually blinked furiously, his back stiff as he finally met her gaze.

His eyes were warm and green once again.

"Hermione, I'm so, so sorry—_fuck!_" he rushed to say, still frozen on the spot when his shoulders hunched tiredly. "I think Regulus is Moony's mate."

At least, _that_ got her mind off the wedding for a while.

* * *

Needless to say, Hermione was a bit of a mess when she finally left for the Malfoy grounds. Her dress clung to her like a second skin and she could feel a drop of sweat trickle down her forehead, but she couldn't do much to control her human reaction.

She was among the many people that had made her and her brothers' childhood so haunted. Hermione could feel the very base of her trauma rise from underneath her barriers, and she pushed it down before she could lose control over her own mind.

_You can't afford that today_, Granger said unhelpfully as though Hermione didn't know that already.

Her heels dug into the white silk laid on the grass, and her gaze swept around the vast, green grounds until she paused it on Regulus - briefly reminded of her conversation with Remus.

She had known that his crush wasn't just a little, fleeting one, but it still surprised her with how serious it really turned out to be - not to mention how it was affecting _Moony_, as well.

Hermione sighed and idly played with her bracelet as she walked towards Abraxas.

Could _one_ thing in her life not be so complicated?

The older man was dressed as fancy as ever, though his face held a shine she hadn't seen in long. "I see you've accepted your actual daughter-in-law," she teased, to which she received a playful narrow of his eyes.

"You're late, little Black. The ceremony has already taken place," he complained, though his gaze held a silent question. Did anything happen?

She shook her head, a wry grin at her lips. "Ouch. Back to Black, are we? It hurts to see you replace me!" Hermione sniffed, tearing her eyes away from him briefly to look for the groom. "Where's Malfoy?"

"Which one?" a familiar voice called, and Hermione whirled on the spot to find the groom with an addition by his side - the lovely _bride_.

"Cousin, I'm _so_ happy to see you," she greeted with a feigned excitement. Hermione found that plastering a sickly-sweet smile on her face was getting gradually easier - or maybe it depended on the person.

She had never been one to hate a cousin more than Bellatrix, mostly since Cissa—_Narcissa_ had stayed out of her way, easily pleased with playing with Andy . . . and Hermione, when she had the time to join.

She'd mostly stuck by Sirius's side whenever these kinds of family events had occurred, and now - to be at one without him . . . it felt odd. However, it was for the best.

At the very least, Bellatrix had already left and was nowhere to be seen.

"There's no need to lie," Narcissa murmured as she went to hug her. She wore an odd look; her blue eyes mixed with something akin to pity. "I'd like to apologize for my behaviour in your first year."

Ah, yes — _she_ had been the one to snitch to Walburga of which house both Black twins had been sorted in.

Hermione pulled back, unbothered to hide her bewilderment at her cousin's words. "I'm _sorry_. Did a Black just _apologize?_"

"You just did, too," Malfoy deadpanned as he joined his wife's side, his arm curling around his wife's waist. "Just take the apology without any farce."

Hermione bit down a teasing grin. "Well, being married has certainly changed you both. I'm just glad you're safe from your parents' clutches . . . _Cissa_."

The woman did not respond, instead she rested her gaze on her father-in-law, her lips pursed. "Lucius tells me she visits often."

Abraxas looked unnerved, sending his son a pointed glare. "You must not tell anyone," he insisted in a hushed voice. He glanced back at Hermione and sighed heavily. "But yes. You'll get used to her antics, dear."

Getting quite bored to tears of watching the new family's dynamics, she tore her eyes away from them and moved down to where other couples were dancing, an appropriate distance between them even though they were all married.

Hermione scowled. "Why did I come here, again?" she wondered out loud, looking up at the clear sky. She would've thrown her hands up to be even more dramatic, but she wanted to have her wand in a tight hold at all times.

No matter what anyone tried to do. Which, Malfoy had insisted that nothing of such will be allowed at his wedding.

Hermione had to check if that was true, and Walburga Black was standing by the side, all _useless_ in her bitter presence, anyways - so, she _could_ be used for better things.

Her shoulders squared, she ignored Regulus as he stumbled past her to silently stop her, and she allowed Walburga's spiteful stare to land on her.

With every step she took, the hollow feeling in her chest grew and grew until she wondered if this is how her father had felt when he'd walked towards death—all to save her.

Had he even known?

"You're here," her mother bit out, a repulsed note evident in her tone at the sight of her own daughter. Her eyes dropped to her bare arm, the _blood traitor_ scar bright and red.

Hermione brushed it off. She told herself that she didn't care, and in fact, she stifled a bitter smile. "How are you, Mother?" she asked calmly, her voice surprisingly even.

The woman's dark purple, tinted lips turned down into a scowl, and her loud scoff entered her ears like usual - like a mother's familiar lullaby for her child. "Well without you and your brother to bring further disappointment in my father's house!"

"That's right," Hermione said nonchalantly, and her eyes swept around their surroundings before they settled on the woman once again. Her grey eyes had never held even a bit of warmth. "I just want to know something, if you'll allow me."

Not waiting for a response, she took a step closer and the tip of her wand grazed against Walburga's stomach, the same womb that had once borne her and Sirius. "Who did it?"

Walburga appeared startled, staring directly in her eyes. Hermione had grown to be the same height as _her_, at least. And her mother seemed to realize that she was no longer a kid. "What?" she spat bitterly, her lips thinning and composure faltering when Hermione's wand dug deeper, most probably bruising her skin.

"Did Voldemort kill him? Or did he leave the dirty job to you? Regulus never saw the body, so it would've been easy for you to hide the fact that you Avada'd him - what, with all those Ministry connections."

The chatter in the background grew faint as Hermione's throat closed up at each word, her heart tightening in her chest at the possible last moments of her father. And when Walburga snapped, "It was the Dark Lord!" Hermione needn't be told more.

"Do you know who's not going to be here for longer?" she asked Walburga, leaning in closer, and her voice dropped dangerously. She could no longer hold back the hot rage her body thrummed with. "You, when I kill you."

When she stepped back with a tight, sharp nod, she was pleased to see the horrified expression that twisted her mother's face; her jaw slack like Hermione had done anything surprising.

Hermione scoffed loudly, making a show to look around, feigning disinterest in her current company. "_Honestly_, Walburga. What did you expect after ruining my family? I certainly wasn't going to hug you, _bitch_."

"Regulus!" the old hag instantly screeched, head whirling around to look for her younger son. When her crazy eyes finally landed on him, she instantly called for him to save her, because _of course_ Walburga wasn't one to know how to use her wand under pressure.

"Pathetic," Hermione whispered, watching as she clutched onto Regulus's arm when he arrived. The woman really believed that he was her lifeline, when the truth was that he now knew who she really was.

_Well_, Granger began as Regulus dragged their panic-stricken mother away from prying eyes. She didn't miss the alarmed look directed at her when he glanced back. _It seems that Malfoy was right. No one will be able to cause a scene here._

Hermione clenched her hands tight. Not even—

"May I have this dance?"

—Tom Riddle?

A sudden fury lashed inside of her like a furious beast, and her knees buckled at the sudden recognition of the voice. If it weren't for his Horcruxes, she would've killed him right then and there.

As she turned on the spot, she slipped a nonplussed look on her face, trembling in the effort to rein in her anger and the acid that burned the confines of her throat. "I don't really want to."

He was truly masked, she realized as she eyeballed his hooded face. This time, all she could see was the firm line of his pale lips, her attention then turning to his freezing, slimy fingers when they wrapped around her wrist.

"Miss Black, we can have a peaceful discussion," he tried in a low voice, as though he thought that she was clueless of all his sins.

Her mind wandered back to his search for the Chosen One, and she knew that it was best to not look so tough in front of him - not _yet_. "Alright," she allowed evenly. "But we're staying right here."

Though his gaze was shadowed, she knew very well that they sparked with mockery at her attitude. His lips twitched but before they could lift into anything close to a loathsome smile, she cocked a brow at him. "Talk then," she bit out.

Granger sighed heavily. _That's not being a normal, sixteen years old girl_.

He chuckled coldly, the unwanted, gut-churning sound rushing to her ears and leaving her with a want to claw at her skin. "You would make a fine Death Eater, indeed."

She feigned interest. "You're right. I do take _Crucio's_ quite nicely."

"You could cast them, instead," he offered, the side of his mouth lifting into a sinister, predatory smile; untouched by her blunt belligerence. "Bella tells me you've gotten quite skilled."

Hermione smiled thinly. "And Dolohov?"

"Oh, _Hermione_." There was something about the way he said her name that had her recoil back in disgust and her lips curl in obvious distaste. "You are but a young girl. I heard of your success at Hogwarts, and I could take you under my tutelage to make you even better."

Hermione had enough. She _spat_ on his face, a gargle of hatred and scorn.

"Fuck your prejudiced tutelage. Fuck all of your followers. _Fuck you._"

One last glance at his hostile glower, the sound of her disapparating drowned out Tom Riddle's resentful threats.

* * *

"Are you fucking stupid?"

Hermione ignored Sirius as she rested her head on James's lap, for which he halted the nervous shake of his leg.

"Don't swear, Padfoot," she murmured, trying to ignore the sharp kick of pain that followed in her head. She could hear a loud buzzing that certainly did not stop when Sirius groaned loudly.

"You cussed _Voldemort_ out," he growled, pacing in front of the couch with his hands clenched tight. He jerked his head at her; frosty disappointment amplified by his tight jaw and stern frown. "How could you risk it? Do you think this is a joke?—"

"Of course not," she cut him off, burying her face in her hands to keep him from seeing the tears her eyes glittered with. She swallowed helplessly until she was sure her vocal cords would work. "I get it. But—but it's so _hard_."

For the first time in months, Hermione wanted to be four feet under—anywhere but in the real world where she was hit with the harsh reality of her carelessness.

Not often, did she feel like a disappointment to not only the people she cared about, but also herself. It was as though there was this huge question mark above her head growing and enlarging as she continued to doubt herself and her achievements so far.

Had she done any good to this world?

And at that question, Hermione felt worn out - oh, so skeptical that she could hardly even recognize herself. From the sudden rush of confidence and adrenaline she'd gotten while confronting Walburga and Voldemort, she now felt like a little child who just needed comfort.

The tightness in her chest finally cracked, tears jetting to her eyes as she thought of her actual childhood. A rush of awful memories played in her head like a cruel move of her mind, and she broke down under the pressure. Silent tears streamed down her face once she hurried to plant a nearby pillow over her face.

At that moment, Hermione hated everything that came with her existence.

A loud protest rang in her mind. _Hermione, no!_

James tried to shrug her hold off the pillow, but she put all she had in her to keep that bout of weakness hidden from him. "Come on, witch," he said softly, carding his fingers through her hair.

She could hear Sirius kneel in front of the couch, and his hand reached for her back, him pushing her against his chest despite her protests.

Two hands now rubbed her back soothingly.

"It's alright, Hermione. I'm sorry for yelling at you," he whispered, his voice breaking as a sob tore out of her mouth. "You're so strong. Know that it's fine to break under the pressure sometimes. You're doing more than even Dumbledore could've done by himself."

"Yes," added James fiercely, and though her vision was covered, she could just feel the worried frown coming her way. "And who gives a fuck about what you told Walburga? I don't. Sirius doesn't. It's fine to make that toad scared."

_Toad?_ Granger echoed, exasperated. _Why do all Potter men just use that animal as an insult?_

Hermione almost snorted at the memory of what Granger and Harry had done to Umbridge, until she remembered _what else_ had occurred that day, and she settled her head further against Sirius's chest, her tears soaking through his shirt with no remorse.

"And what about Voldemort? It was irresponsible of me, and I made Sirius angry," she argued in a muffled voice, her throat clogged with terror and vulnerability.

Her twin sighed loudly. "I'm not angry. I'm _worried_, Cub. I don't want you facing that man."

She nodded hesitantly, and they settled into a tense silence; each thinking their own thing. She didn't have it in her to remind him that she _will_ have to face him one day.

Hermione only hoped that none of the boys won't be there to see it.

"Was Remus okay when he left?" she eventually asked, still in her twin's embrace and not quite ready to let go yet.

James hummed. "He felt bad for behaving the way he did. Don't worry, though. We made sure he knew that you didn't mind."

"You didn't get to talk to Regulus?" Sirius questioned, and when she shook her head, he simply patted her head, his fingers then slowly running through her hair. "Alright. We might have to have a talk with him. You rest here, okay?"

Hermione couldn't help but tense. "Don't tell me you're going to spill Remus's secrets?"

"Don't worry! I won't say anything. You know me—"

A sharp pain threatened to swallow her whole as darkness took over her sight and her twin's voice grew distant—the buzzing in her ears growing until—

—_Hermione gasped for breath and looked at her surroundings._

_Immediately, she moved in front of the calendar and noted the date. August 1st—it was today, she realized as her gaze flashed up at the clock and she noted that it was just a few minutes till eight in the evening._

_Hermione ran towards the living room and she looked at each one of the pictures, trying to figure out who the familiar looking brunette was and, realizing that she needed to hurry, she searched for at least one piece of paper that could have the student's name._

_It was when her eyes caught a small, spelling bee award on top of the fireplace, that she recognized the name. Anastasia Adkins, and it all came crashing down to her—Muggleborn, 4th year, Ravenclaw._

_She could hear glass splatter across the floor as a window was smashed, and the family dining in the other room let out frightened screams. Instantly, she sprung towards the noise, but her sight began to blur and suddenly she could feel her shoulders shake—_

"Hermione!"

Her eyes sprung open, and she was up in an instant, blood rushing down to her legs as they trembled. Still, she ignored the dizziness that took over her as she grabbed her purse and fisted her wand, _tight_.

"I have to go," she told the boys, ready to apparate when she craned her neck to look at them. "You go see Regulus, and don't worry about me."

Just like that—she was gone before they could object.

* * *

As soon as Hermione apparated to the Ministry of Magic's Atrium, she hurried through the long hall and went for one of the access lifts still open. Once inside, she couldn't help but tap her foot impatiently as the lift descended to various levels, until it finally reached level two: Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

As she exited the lift, she moved just around the corner and ran past a set of doors that led her directly to an open area with numerous, small cubicles.

The buzzing of talk and laughter halted the moment each Auror took her dishevelled appearance, and at the far-right corner, a tall, dark skinned wizard stood up, gesturing for her to come see him.

She quickly assessed him to remember who he could be. As she walked up to him, Hermione was sure she'd seen him around the few times she'd visited Moody at work.

The wizard rolled his broad shoulders back before addressing her, his voice slow and deep in a way that calmed her, "How may I help you, Miss Black?"

"You know me?" Hermione shook her head quickly. This was not the time to sate her thirst for knowledge. "I need to know where Anastasia Adkins lives. Her family is in danger."

"Hermione?" a familiar voice barked at her back.

She swirled around, immediately met with the sight of Moody and Charlus, side by side as they approached her. Her mentor had his magical eye pinned at her, while the other flew at another scrawny Auror nearby, who slowly asked, "Miss . . . how exactly do you know they're in danger?"

He looked distrustful—which she couldn't blame at the way she'd spilled her words—but it was certainly not the time to prove her innocence to a stranger. She turned towards the two men.

"Hermione," Charlus began with a pleasant smile, "I see you've met Kingsley. He'll be working with us, as well."

Hermione spared the Auror in question a quick glance before her wide eyes jumped back to her mentor; a deep frown on his face when he noticed her panicked expression.

"Moody! _Someone_ informed me of a new Death Eater attack," she rushed to say, pausing briefly to send a pointed look at both Order members. "We need to get moving if we want to get there before them!"

Moody's stance immediately changed. He shouted at the man—_Kingsley_, as she was reminded by Granger—to form up a team and gather information on the family, moving along a worker to assess the location of the Adkins' home.

Once he was done, he glanced back at her with a scowl. "Dumbledore wants to see you, by the way. Your performance at the wedding pleased none of us."

She ignored the bite in his tone. Instead, she remained fixed on the spot and insisted, "I'll see him later. I need to come, too."

Moody stared down at her, urging out a low, frustrated growl. "_Go. See. Him._"

And with that, he'd handed her a Portkey that sent her teleporting through space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me with the Hermione angst, but I thought it'd be fitting for her to occasionally get overwhelmed with all her responsibilities. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the update, and feel free to let me know what you think!


	60. Elder Wand

**August, 1976.**

"Professor," greeted Hermione, sitting down on the chair primly, knees together and back tense.

The Headmaster had his hands locked together on the table, and he simply looked at her through his half-moon glasses; a heavy sigh escaping his mouth. By his side, Fawkes sent her a soft coo, but she pointedly avoided looking at the phoenix, like she had for months now.

"Hermione, I'm afraid you need to stay on the low for some time."

Hermione seethed inwardly, and she could feel her nails dig into her palms as she went to protest. "Why? I have done nothing wrong but put Voldemort in his place."

"You know what you have done," he stated calmly. "It can be dangerous for you—"

"First of all, couldn't you have told me this after I went to check on the Muggleborn's family?" she asked, eyeing the older wizard, baffled. She shook her head slowly. "Better yet. After Dorcas's attack, you'd told me that you will be sending protection for _all_ of their families."

The candle on the side of the large, wooden table flickered. "You must understand how hard it is to keep everything in check. I assure you - Moody has just informed me of how they've added special, protective wards to the house."

Her nostrils flared and she couldn't keep the biting tone to herself. "If you don't do it for all of their houses, I'll go and do it myself!"

He gave her a patronizing smile that acted like fuel to the fire of her ire. "At the moment, we must discuss how it's best if I proceed with the search of Horcruxes by myself . . ." he insisted, continuing with his explanation regarding why it could be so dangerous for her.

All Hermione could wonder was _why_ did he even get her involved then? She'd barely been born when he'd changed the course of her entire life, filled her shoulders with burden and her mind with an old woman who'd loved to think Hermione could not be trusted yet.

And as she grabbed the glass paperweight from the Headmaster's desk, watching as the piece winked back at her with its glint - she lost it completely. "Then why am I here?" she spat, bitterness dripping from her words as her voice increased.

Her throat constricted painfully, burning at thought of Harry Potter—in this same office, devastated by loss and burdens as the man he respected kept numerous secrets from him—and her chest rose in shallow breaths; her heart breaking for the boy as though he was her own son.

A sudden rage lashed out.

Hermione smashed the piece of glass down to the ground, sharp shards skittering around the floor as she stood. A burning roar of hot fury struck in her veins, her hands trembling at the rush of uncontrollable anger.

She glared at the man in front of her with no remorse. "_Why am I here?_" she asked again, trembling in effort to rein in her emotions.

He had that insufferable calm look on his face, and the more she looked at it, the more she wanted to leave him in front of Voldemort right then and there.

For him to see what it truly felt like.

"You can't manipulate me!" she told him, louder than ever, her hands clenched tight and she stood even taller, stepping on a glass shard without a care for the world. "I will do what I have to because I, unlike you, want to get rid of that man the soonest I can! I don't want to die and—and leave it in the hands of my child who could fall in your traps."

She paced around the room, moving away from the desk before she could throw all of his trinkets to the ground. Her teeth ground tight when she heard a loud scoff from one of the portraits.

"Phineas—" went to interrupt Dumbledore, his voice even and calm, but her deceased relative had much to say, it seemed.

The man in the portrait glared at her, but she didn't care to flinch. She moved even closer to the painting and folded her arms across her chest. "What do you want?" she asked loudly, her chin up in the air as she struggled to keep her frustration at bay.

This wasn't the first time she'd had to interact with the man, though she and Sirius had always tried to avoid him—even when they were at Grimmauld.

The very first time she remembered talking to him was when she had first entered her father's study room, and the man had stared down at her with dark, shrewd eyes, a pointed beard and thin eyebrows raised curiously at her.

He had asked her who she was, and her - being a talkative toddler - had gone on a rant about all she knew about her and her ancestry; something Walburga had made sure they knew no matter what.

He had seemed pleased with her at the time—noticing her appreciation for the value of learning—but later on, when he had eventually found out all about her and Sirius sneaking out to Muggle places, he had become the usual snide and sarcastic man.

She wasn't surprised that this was the first time he'd talked to her ever since finding out about the Prophecy,

He very rarely paid attention to young people's problems and that could be seen with the way he rolled his eyes at her, baffled and uncaring of her troubles.

"Settle down," he said sharply. "Your son," his tone drowned in disbelief, "isn't even born yet, you foolish girl!"

"Oh, don't talk to me about foolishness," she bit back, her scowl growing by the second. "Don't make me remind you of how _bad_ of a Headmaster you were. A disgrace, really."

He gave out a short laugh, sharp and cold as usual. "You've got more than one Black trait in you, and you dare to insult me - your own ancestor? Keep that Black temper to yourself and listen. You will not back down, but that does not mean you can act like a Gryffindor all the time and expect to come out of it alive."

Her lips thinned and she pressed them together as she glanced back at Dumbledore—the man walking towards her with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Indeed. Phineas is right," he said as he joined her side. "I understand your anger regarding my decision, but I hope to make you forgive me, somehow."

Hermione expelled a heavy breath, her uncertain eyes pinned on the Headmaster. She swallowed the lump that had previously grown at her ancestor's words. "Anyhow?"

When she received a firm nod, Hermione knew exactly what she needed to make sure Voldemort won't be left unscathed for when she will have to face him.

For the last time ever.

"I want the Elder Wand."

It didn't take a genius to recognize the fact that he did not want to part with it, and Hermione didn't blame him. It was such a desirable object; fascinating, immensely powerful, and of course, incredibly dangerous.

Being the first Hallow to be created by Death himself, it wasn't a wand that could be wielded by anyone, but Hermione knew - she was sure she could master it, as she had accepted death since the day she'd lost her father.

Though, she had _always_ been willing to do anything for her family.

"Hermione - you need to know; this is too much power for you to have in your hands—"

Having expected such an answer, she offered him a small smile. "You don't trust me." She made it a statement, one that he couldn't deny with the way he gave her a regrettable sigh.

Not to mention the shake of his head that was the obvious answer to her question. "You must know that it does not always guarantee victory against others." Right then though, he paused, addressing her again very slowly and with a calculating gaze.

Was he assessing what must be done and sacrificed for the _Greater Good?_

"However, I do admit that it could be a great advantage for you to have . . . as the Chosen One."

She pursued her lips at the name, nodding only slightly. "I'm not saying I want it now," she reasoned vehemently. "But I want to have it with me if, by some chance, the day to kill Voldemort comes and you are not there with the wand."

The old wizard looked at her then, seemingly scanning her face for any sign of deceit and when he found none—or so she assumed, anyways—he moved across the room and back behind his large desk.

Hermione thought he was about to refuse her right then and there, when his twinkling gaze met hers again and he nodded.

"Disarm me, Hermione, and this wand will wait to be used by you when the need comes."

It was a deal she could not refuse, and as Granger provided her support with the decision, Hermione pushed her shoulders back and aimed her wand at the Headmaster, the same man she had come to admire since she had read her very first book about him.

And now, the word, "_Expelliarmus!_" tumbled out of her mouth as if destiny had written this particular moment ever since the moment Granger had stepped foot inside of this office.

Hermione's hand caught the Elder Wand easily—a literal piece of history and one day, it will be a piece of the future, too.

"You cannot afford to lose the battle now, Hermione," the Headmaster told her, a certain knowing look on his face that she hoped meant to tell her of victory. She glanced back down to her purse as she slipped the wand inside.

Dumbledore grabbed his previous wand, which he'd surprisingly kept in his possession for all this time.

"I cannot," she mimicked, lost deep in thought.

* * *

The boys returned just around the same time Hermione did. Frozen on the spot behind the large dining table, she gave them an awkward smile. "Hey?"

"_Hey?_" James cried out, his voice loud as he moved towards her and wound his arms around her in a tight hold. "You had me so fucking worried, Hermione."

She kept her arms around his torso, her smile wavering a bit when she saw Sirius look over her with a searching look. "Sirius?"

"You're okay?" he asked, his voice cracking even as he turned his gaze elsewhere. He seemed to be trying hard to appear casual, but he scratched the back of his head worriedly.

James let go of her then, allowing her to approach her twin slowly and face him with a gentle smile. "Of course, I'm okay," she reassured him softly, poking his cheek a little so that he could grin at her—which he finally did.

"Good," he exclaimed, slumping against a chair nearby and groaning out loud. "I doubt our talk with Regulus was nearly as hard as . . . as your mission. What did you even _do?_"

Hermione scowled a bit, briefly reminded of what she'd intended to do when she'd left for the Ministry. "Well, I had a vision, so I went to the Aurors to inform them, but Moody said that Dumbledore wanted to talk to me."

"_Dumbledore?_" Sirius asked, surprised. "What? No 'Professor Dumbledore'?"

She swallowed, dropping her eyes down to the ground before meeting his gaze once more. "Let's just say that I'm tired of being controlled. I did err—break his glass paperweight and insult our dear, old Phineas," she rambled on, omitting any information regarding the Elder Wand for their own good.

James appeared by her side in an instant, his brows scrunched at her. "Then, how are you not fuming with rage? Why is your hair not coming to—you know, _life?_"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "_Honestly_. I'm not _that_ bad when I get angry."

Her boyfriend gave her a blank look, while Sirius outright barked a soft laugh. "Yes, you are," he informed, a wide and amused grin on his face. "But it seems that you gained something from your fight with old Dumbles."

"Yes, well," she said evasively and waved an absentminded hand. "It's not important. What did Regulus tell you?"

"After a lot of prodding," Sirius paused dramatically, popping in his mouth a grape that she didn't know where the hell he'd got it from. "We found out he likes girls _and_ boys, so our Moony dear has a chance."

"And while Pads is oblivious to anything romantic related," James told her, his arm laid on her shoulders, and she could feel him shake with laughter as Sirius went to protest. "I can see that he likes Moony. More than once he mentioned where on earth was the only sane Marauder—I took offence to that—and he even _blushed_ when Sirius talked about Moony's hidden muscles."

"Remus doesn't have any muscles," she told him, causing his gaze to snap down at her. He narrowed his hazel eyes playfully.

"And _how_ would you know that?"

She arched a pointed brow at him. "We've seen him naked every morning after the full moon."

James looked away, a slight pout on his lips that she wanted to kiss away. However, Sirius _was_ still very much there, so she stayed put and crossed her arms.

Her brother seemed to be wary when he went to continue, watching her carefully. "Oh, and we told him that Remus likes boys, too."

Hermione groaned out loud.

* * *

A few days later, Hermione had made sure that her _best-_best friend knew of what the boys had done, and while he seemed quite put off with it through the Galleon, she made sure he knew that they hadn't meant anything bad by it.

And mature as he was, he let it go and went as far as thanking the boys—saying he now felt a strange confidence that he hadn't felt in years.

"I'm happy for them," she whispered to James one night, huddled close together under the blanket. She had been unable to sleep due to her recurring nightmares, so he had decided that perhaps talking about Quidditch would bore her enough to make her fall asleep.

Why he thought so, she did not know. Eventually, even _he_ ran out of things to say and her mind couldn't help but wander off to her best friend and little brother. "They'll be quite cute together. Don't you think?"

James shrugged and leaned closer, resting his head happily on her chest. "I should've seen it from the beginning," he mumbled, his warmth spreading through her body like a blanket of comfort. "But I was too busy figuring out my feelings for you."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, and her hand immediately flew out to card her fingers through his black curls. She allowed a few strands to fall on his forehead—he looked _way_ too handsome like that. "Did I tell you I went to see Snape?"

A few beats of silence and then, "You did?" He was trying his best to not sound bummed by the fact, and she tilted his chin up so that he could meet her gaze.

"I met him to tell him to stay away from his Death Eater friends," she informed him calmly, thinking back to the encounter with a satisfied nod. The fact that she'd really convinced Severus Snape to do something made her feel so accomplished.

"And he agreed?" he asked warily, then shook his head as though to clear it of uncertainty. "Right, of course, he did. You asked him, and only a fool would say no to you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He also said that Lily was sorry and . . . I think I'm willing to let it go, you know? I have better things to do than hold grudges, and I was hoping you could do the same."

James gave out a loud sigh, a frown at his lips at the reminder of his ex girlfriend and her actions. "I'm sure that you didn't ask _Sirius_ to do the same, because he wouldn't have agreed, anyways."

"I thought you said no one could say no to me—"

"Which _I_ can't do," he interrupted her with a pointed look, "so _fine_, I'll try to forget the extreme anger and jealousy that I had to fight with that day, when you were _besotted_ with Moony. I do have you in my arms right now, so . . . "

"So, you win at life, anyways," she said with a cheeky grin, and he gave her a solemn nod.

He moved back and settled his head on his pillow, giving her a sideways look. "You need to sleep, princess. Can't have you snoring all day, instead," he teased her, his arm now around her stomach.

He pressed a chaste kiss on her lips as her eyes fluttered, and she expelled a soft sigh. She was going to be just fine.

* * *

_Tom Riddle greeted his boss, and a surprised Mr. Borgin immediately eyed his former employee with great respect. He nodded from behind the counter._

_"Riddle, why are you hiding your face?" he questioned, weary when he noticed the wand peeking out of his large robes. "Now, if you've come to find those same trinkets, you will be disappointed—"_

_Riddle flicked his wand at the man once, not bothering to look back at the pain he had caused to the older wizard. He hurried to the back of the shop, his traveller's cloak concealing something in his hands._

_Riddle looked back once more before facing a blank wall. He knelt on the dusty floor and a loud slam resonated through the room as the tiles beneath him disappeared._

_"Even Borgin wouldn't dare to risk drinking a poisonous drink," he whispered to himself, his cruel smirk directed at a certain cup._

_Somewhere behind him, Borgin cried out in agony._

Hermione's eyes flashed up, her hands reaching for her wand in a tight, instinctive hold as she sat up. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, strands of hair sticky on her cheeks when she angrily wiped away the tears that had fallen on them.

She glanced back at James and was relieved to see that she hadn't woken him up. Her thoughts then flew back to what she'd seen in the dream and it was as though her Seer powers were telling her of something that had already happened in the past—which was highly illogical and yet . . .

_Yet it's the exact information we need_, Granger whispered in her head, and Hermione agreed.

She was up at an instant. There was no way she could rest now, with her curiosity piqued. There was a chance that her persistent gut feeling was right, and she needed to confirm it at once.

Hermione grabbed a change of clothes and hurried to put them on, just barely managing to leave the room without making any loud noise. She moved down the hallway, far from any bedroom that she knew of as she apparated away with a crack.

.

The shop didn't look any different from the last time she'd visited. Dark magic still lingered in the air—whether it was due to the materials sold in the shop or her creeping suspicion, she did not know.

Hermione moved ahead, her posture rigid as she attentively searched the protective enchantments on the blank wall in front of her. Once she dismantled them, she made a small cut on her hand with her wand and wiped it along the cement, ignoring Granger's apprehensive comments.

_There's a chance we could be wrong. Even if you are right, this Horcrux could be the worst one to handle all by yourself_, Granger hissed, pausing at an instant when the wall screeched loudly and Hermione could no longer control the weight of her body as the floor beneath her disappeared.

She barely had time to register the pain when she fell on her arse, and an abundant amount of dust rushed to her nostrils. "Fucking hell," she coughed out and rose gingerly, her alert gaze taking in the dark room that Riddle had created.

Now with a _Lumos_ lit on her wand, she peered around to find more than one shelf filled with Dark magic books, and a bed that seemed to have been left unoccupied for years.

It seemed that even Borgin hadn't known that his former employee had been residing in his own shop.

"I can feel a Dark aura," she murmured, eyeballing the small bookcase just a few feet away from the mattress. "It will be good to get rid of all this stuff once we're done."

Granger seemed to agree, and Hermione moved to the other side of the room. She used her wand to levitate the numerous books aside, hesitating briefly at the titles that had a horrified shiver run down her spine.

Eventually, she drew her attention away from the books and knelt down the stone, dirt covered floor, not sure she would actually find anything under the bed's darkened floor, when her eyes caught the sight of a familiar cup, imprinted with venomous snakes and filled with a strange, green liquid.

She was instantly hit with a reassuring realization that she had searched for ever since she'd seen Granger's memories.

_Regulus_ . . . he was going to be _safe._

"It's the locket!" she breathed out with a wide smile, reaching out with her hand under the mattress to grab the cup. Her fingers tightened around the handle and she pulled it closer to her mouth, ready to drink it when Granger cleared her throat.

_Hermione, we should really wait for someone to be here with you_, Granger insisted, but Hermione shook her head.

"I can call Dobby and tell him to get me water," she hurried to say, not intent on waiting to make sure that Regulus's demise did not occur because of this sickening piece of soul.

She brought the Drink of Despair to her lips, slowly falling to her knees on the wooden floor and crying out hoarsely at the liquid that ate at her stomach and burned her from within.

With shaky hands, Hermione urged herself to keep drinking the bitter liquid, promising her mind that there was only little left for her to gulp down.

She could barely hear Granger's voice, faint as she repeated, _You're almost there. You're almost there. You're almost there—_

"You've never been enough," a sudden voice spat. Hermione shut her eyes and watched as Walburga glared down at her, giving her a sharp kick in the ribs. "Never accomplished anything good."

"Fuck off!" she cried out, shaking her head desperately as she tipped the cup against her mouth.

Her heart froze in her chest when Walburga walked close, words of hatred ripping her soul apart. "You _killed_ Orion! You have a part in it, too—"

_One last sip_, Granger urged desperately, and eventually Hermione fell back against the side of the mattress, heaving and gasping for breath as she clutched onto the empty cup.

"_Please_," she heaved out, her voice raspy as she stared down at the ground with half-lidded eyes. Her mind grew heavier when she finally grabbed the cup and reached down to the locket; its glittering, green stones that wrote out a large serpentine _S_.

"I did it," she choked out in a whisper before she managed to slip the Horcrux in her purse. She clutched onto her wand desperately and called as loud as she could for a certain house elf. "Dobby!"

When not a sound was heard, Hermione could feel tears jetting to her eyes from the heavy weight in her throat, and she shook her head desperately. "_Dobby!_"

_Why is he not coming?_ Granger asked, panicking. _Wait—he doesn't belong to you, per se. You need to call Kreacher!_

_He won't come either_, Hermione mumbled in her mind tiredly. She could feel her lids growing heavier at each gasp she took, and her throat grew hot and dry, clawing the breath out of her.

She needed to get out. She needed to try.

"Kreacher!" she rasped out, almost smiling when a sudden _'pop'_ was heard.

"Blood traitor Mistress called for Kreacher. Kreacher lives to serve the House of Black," he announced in a sulking voice. "Kreacher does not want to serve blood traitor Mistress. No, he does not!"

"_Help_," she breathed out, clutching onto the familiar elf's hands faintly. She could barely see his deep scowl—instantly reminded of Walburga and her body shook at the after-effects of the Potion.

"Take me—take me . . ." She had really managed to save her little brother. He was going to be safe now— ". . . to _Reggie_. Take me to Malfoy manor. Save me—"

Just like that, darkness took over her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sixty chapters . . . how crazy is that? I can't believe time is going by so fast, and I'm so thankful for the support you continue to give this story! Feel free to let me know what you thought about the update or the story in general. Thank you!


	61. Narcissa

**August, 1976.**

Narcissa peered down at the girl, expelling an anxious sigh as she moved away from the couch and checked if there was any sign of her father-in-law and husband coming back home.

_And Regulus_, she added quickly, as her cousin had been mumbling about him even in her sleep.

Her frown deepened, unable to sit back and relax. Sure, she had learned some of the Healer spells that Andromeda had taught her before . . . before she _abandoned_ her for a man.

One that Narcissa had never been told about, despite them being sisters and supposedly telling each other everything.

She shook those thoughts away, glancing back at the girl that lay in front of her. She had appeared in the living room, unconscious with her hand wrapped around Kreacher; the same house elf dropping her to the ground with a grunt and apparating away at an instant.

Narcissa had panicked—nothing of this sort had ever happened before she married, for Merlin's sake! Still, she kept her cool and levitated her little cousin to the couch nearby, performing every spell she knew of to make sure that she was well enough.

She had also grabbed a glass of water, after she'd noticed Hermione's dry heaves, and the girl had proceeded to faint for a second time once she'd relieved her parched throat.

Narcissa had enough. She called for Dobby, the house elf in question appearing before her with a _'pop'_. "Mistress called for Dobby?"

"Yes, Dobby. Could you please sense where your Master is and make sure to get them home at an instant? I think they must still be training at the Malfoy cottage in Paris."

Dobby nodded eagerly, disapparating just as fast as he had appeared, and she called for a chair, placing it in the vicinity of the couch and sitting down on gingerly.

Her emerald, polished nails drummed impatiently against her leg, covered by the silk fabric of her sleep robe. She was about to stand and pace around the living room for what was most likely the umpteenth time, when she heard multiple cracks in the air, and rushed footsteps neared towards her.

"Narcissa," breathed out Lucius, instantly making his way towards her. His worried gaze landed on her first, searching for any sign of distress before he noticed the unconscious girl that lay on the sofa.

Abraxas and Regulus eventually joined her husband, confusion etched on their faces when they glanced at her first. Only once the latter noticed the addition in the room, did he rush to Hermione's side, dropping to his knees to the floor as he clutched onto her hand.

He looked at Narcissa, wide eyed. "What happened?"

She pursed her lips, flicking her gaze back at her father-in-law's concerned frown. "Kreacher left her here. I am assuming he was simply following her order to be taken wherever Regulus lived. I managed to give her water and look over her health with a few spells, but . . ." she trailed off, clasping her hands, and keeping the frightened shake of her hands to herself.

"She has yet to wake up?" When Abraxas received a tentative nod, he sighed deeply and glanced down at the anxious Black brother. "She's going to be okay, kid. It must've been a mission, and if she managed to get here, she must be in good health."

Narcissa wasn't sure what particular _mission_ she'd gone on—despite being informed, quite hesitantly by her new family soon after the wedding, of how greatly at-risk Hermione's life was, and how fiercely she was fighting for it.

Still, worry for her cousin pulsated in her veins, regardless. Granted that, according to her parents, Hermione had been disowned the moment she and Sirius had interacted with Muggles or were sorted in Gryffindor, but for Narcissa? Oh, deep down, Hermione was still just a sweet, curious child.

"Should we tell the Potters about her?" Lucius asked lowly, looking back at his father with weary eyes.

There was a rustle for movement and then, a small, "_No._"

Narcissa's head snapped towards Hermione, the girl pushing herself up to a sitting position with unsteady movements. "Don't tell them anything. I'm fine," she croaked, shaking her head when Regulus stood up to protest. "I am fine. _Really_ \- Kreacher actually followed my order, so it's alright."

Lucius grunted softly, his arms crossed as he stared down at her with an arched, pale brow. "And the elf won't talk?"

Hermione paled at the question, but her little brother was quick to help her in any way he could. He called for the house elf in question at an instant, Kreacher appearing with a delighted smile that looked nothing like the scowl from earlier.

"Young Master Reggie called for Kreacher. Kreacher is happy to serve the House of Black," he announced proudly, wrapping his little arms around Regulus's leg and looking up to him with wide eyes.

Regulus smiled softly as he patted his head. "Hello, Kreacher. You won't tell anyone about what happened to Hermione, right?"

Kreacher's face contorted with distaste, but he gave Regulus a slow nod. "Kreacher supposes he will not," he mumbled, sending a quick, narrowed glance at Hermione. "Kreacher loves to serve the House of Bl—"

"Which means you should also respect Hermione and Sirius's commands," the youngest Black interrupted with a firm voice. He squatted down so that he could see eye-to-eye with the house elf and waited for a nod in response. Once he received it, albeit reluctantly, he stood at once and smiled brightly. "Great. You can go now, Kreacher. Thank you."

Kreacher happily bid his adieu, and Hermione urged out a loud groan in frustration. "I don't know where I went wrong with him. I've always been just as nice!" she protested half-heartedly, her tired gaze then sweeping over the men in the room and finally landing on Narcissa.

Narcissa quickly composed herself, her back straight as she rested on the chair. "Hermione, I am glad to see you are doing well."

The younger girl stared at her with a peculiar look in her eyes. Her mouth opened and closed multiple times, and she eventually cleared her throat. "Thank you for taking care of me, Cissa."

Narcissa faltered at the nickname, and she could feel a strong prickle in the corner of her eyes. She ignored the burn and instead, nodded slowly. "It was nothing," she whispered and glanced away, hoping her husband would take her away from the room, but Lucius looked on at the interaction with great interest.

She could feel Hermione's stare burn the side of her head, no matter how much Narcissa fixed her gaze on the colour of her nails.

"Would you—would you like to meet Andromeda one of these days?"

* * *

"Sirius?"

After much insistence from her part, Hermione had convinced them that she was alright and needed to get home, which she _did_ end up doing - thanks to assistance from Dobby's part.

He was so sweet in comparison to Kreacher, that she often couldn't help but speculate where she'd gone wrong with him.

That was what she had been thinking when Dobby left her near the fireplace at Potter manor, just in time to catch Sirius as he held onto Floo Powder, all dressed up with a strong - very strong - reek of fancy cologne.

She narrowed her eyes at him, although they probably held more exhaustion than fire in them. Her hand flew to her curls—Merlin, her hair had gotten frustratingly long now—and she scratched her head tiredly. "Where are you going?"

Eyes wide, he stared at her with shock and eventually, he thought to place the Powder container back where it had been previously.

"Where did you come from?" he spluttered, his eyes turning into slits as he took in the dishevelled state of her hair and clothes. "What the fuck happened?" he demanded at once, a spark of realization in his eyes, and he stepped forward.

She had been so intent on finding out where _he_ was going, that she had forgotten how strange it was for her to be up at an unruly time. She continued to massage her head, just barely relieving the intense pain that had kicked in. "I was on a mission. Don't worry, though. Narcissa patched me up."

He immediately rested his hands on her shoulders, looking over her with alert, agitated eyes. "It means that you were hurt," he hissed, a deep frown on his face, and he rubbed the middle of his chest. "So, _that's_ why I wasn't feeling good."

"Still doesn't explain why you're all dressed up," she pointed out sharply, intent on taking his attention away from her.

Sirius huffed out a short, nervous laugh. "Nowhere—"

"You're lying. Stop lying," Hermione cut him off resolutely, and she watched as his face shifted into an uneasy grimace. With a pang in her heart, she wondered why he felt the need to lie to _her_.

He held the bridge of his nose between his two fingers and looked down at her, expelling a disturbed sigh. "I didn't want you to find out this way!" he whined softly, clearly frustrated with the turn of events.

She gave him a quizzical quirk of her brow, and he eventually conceded, his head falling back with a huff. He looked back at her and led her to the loveseat nearby, holding her hand between his own once they'd settled down.

"I was going to Marlene's house."

Hermione blinked at him. Her lips twisted into a frown, and she tilted her head at him. "What?" she asked flatly.

Her twin scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly clearing his throat before he spoke once again, clearly, "We're seeing each other—I _think?_ I mean - err, we shared a few _moments_ at Hogwarts, after she broke up with Benjy. I don't know what we are, but we both need an outlet and well, shag—"

"Okay," she ground out, stopping his rambling before it got too explicit. Hot air rushed out of her nostrils and she swallowed all her complaints about why he hadn't thought of telling her before.

Even Marlene, who Hermione had seen just a month ago! They had talked about James, so why didn't she talk about her . . . her _brother?!_

"I know you're angry," he cut off her mental tirade, and let go of her hand to swipe his palms along the rough fabric of his jeans. "But I think she's waiting for me to ask her out and well, I-I don't know what to do, _for once_, with a girl."

Hermione sighed heavily. With her calculating gaze pinned on her twin, she noticed how miserable he looked at the aspect of not knowing how to deal with the situation. Usually, he was so self-assured in everything he did, especially with girls - much to her distaste.

"Do you like her? And I mean not just her body and the whole," she waved her hands around vaguely, "deal you two have made, but actual endearing feelings for her."

A spark lit up in his eyes and she could clearly see the gentle smile that bloomed on his lips at the question. He nodded eagerly. "I do. You need to trust me, Cub. I'm willing to let go of my old ways for her, because - because she's worth it. I've known her for all these years, and it feels like she knows me for who I really am."

Hermione couldn't help but smile. She had started to believe that her brother would never be the kind to settle down for anyone but knowing that her friend had done it - it made her rather content. She wanted the best for both, and maybe that was how Sirius felt with her and James, as well.

At the thought, she realized that Sirius and Marlene both deserved all the encouragement from her and this time, it was her hands that wrapped around his, just before he could scratch his head nervously. "Don't worry, Padfoot. I trust you, and I have seen and wondered about the chemistry between you two."

He tilted his head curiously. "You have?"

She nodded eagerly. It all seemed so noticeable to her now, and she chastised herself for not recognizing it sooner. "However, you need to ask her out properly," she sent him a pointed look at that, "knowing how she is, she will be wondering how you really feel about her, and she deserves clarity!"

"Okay, okay!" he exclaimed, raising his hands up in surrender and sending her a wide grin. "I can do that—I _want_ to. Should I do it tonight?"

Hermione pursed her lips, well aware now of what they were going to do after, and she didn't want to think about _that_. "Yes, but be romantic in your own way. Don't act like an idiot like you usually do."

He looked affronted. "Hermione, you don't know me at all, it seems!" he whisper-wailed melodramatically as everyone else was still very much asleep.

She gave him an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "Now, go! She's waiting for you, isn't she? And tell her that I don't mind the fact that she kept it a secret from me . . . I have kept worse secrets."

Sirius sobered at that, and he shook his head firmly. "Don't ever blame yourself for it. You're keeping people safe." After a brief pause, he continued, "You looked for one of those objects, didn't you?"

At her startled look, he chuckled and brought her into a tight hug. "Now that we all know about your involvement, the Potters don't hide their worries anymore when you have a mission scheduled."

"That they know about," she corrected him hoarsely, patting him on the back gently. "They didn't know about this one—but even _I_ didn't, until a few hours ago. Anyways, a lot of Order members don't know what's going on. We are divided into units, and I haven't worked with—_never mind_, go see Marlene."

* * *

Hermione was surprised when she woke up to an empty bed. It was Sunday, and she doubted James had refused to sleep in today, of all days.

However, when she checked the time and realized that it was _her_ that had woken up so uncharacteristically late, she scrambled off the bed and got ready immediately. The burn in her chest from last night hadn't quite dissolved and while she found her movements somewhat weakened, she still managed to make it to the Potter grounds in little time.

She was met with the sight of the Potters drinking tea as they watched two idiotic boys try to sprinkle Hair-Removal Powder on the other's head. Hermione rolled her eyes, slumping down on the garden chair and taking a sip of the cup of tea that Dorea had prepared for her.

Charlus placed a scone in her plate before settling back in his seat. He cleared his throat, sending a quick glance at Dorea - the woman clearly rolling her eyes at his lack of finesse.

"You got back quite late," he tried in a soft voice, but caught off guard, Hermione coughed against the edge of her cup, anyways.

Granger laughed loudly. _Talk about lack of subtlety._

"I did?" she squeaked, and when all she received were two blank stares, she amended with a firm and clear, "I did, yes."

"Charlus can feel the wards shift every time someone leaves the manor," Dorea explained calmly, a sly glint in her eyes when they both looked to the side at Sirius. "Of course, we wish to give you all the freedom you'd like, however we want to make sure everything is well."

Heat crept down her neck, and she ducked her head. "I had to search for those _keys_ we discussed at the meeting," Hermione explained, and her eyes dropped to the cup in her hands. She now wished she'd asked for a strong coffee, instead. "Sirius, on the other hand . . . I made sure he's being _safe_."

The pair laughed at her grimace and they nodded, understanding clear on their face.

"Many new members have joined us," Charlus told her, his gaze sweeping around the vast, vibrant green grass before it landed back on her. "If you wish to meet them, we are having a full get-together today."

In all honesty, she wished to stay home terribly, after the eventful night she'd had and the literal _poison_ she'd drunk. However, she couldn't help but feel interested over the members potentially being the same ones as those in Granger's dimension.

She nodded hesitantly and they finished breakfast in a relatively comfortable silence. Hermione had paused a few times and wondered if she should break those two boys off, but they were having fun, and who was she to deny them that?

And when they _did_ settle down, she made up her mind to finally ask Sirius whether it had gone well at Marlene's house.

James didn't look surprised, probably hearing the story for the umpteenth time that morning, as her brother went on to say how wonderfully well it had gone — pausing briefly to send Dorea a wink.

Her boyfriend elbowed him in the stomach for that, and before Hermione could even mutter her exasperation at their behaviour, the stern clearing of a throat sounded behind her.

Standing up instantly at the familiarity of the gesture, she whirled on the spot and her eyes landed on Professor McGonagall, who looked rather emotional upon seeing her, her eyes glistening under the sunlight.

"Professor?"

Her brother cut her off. "Minnie!"

The tight-lipped woman surveyed both twins with a fierce gaze and eventually she nodded, letting out a small sigh of . . . _relief?_ "I am glad to see you are doing well, Miss Black."

Hermione nodded, ultimately thinking back to Dolohov's attack. "It's nice to see you, Professor," she said with a small smile, and Dorea gestured for everyone to sit around the small table.

"What brings you here, Minerva?" Dorea asked, eyeing the papers in her hands curiously.

"While I was going to meet you at the Order meeting, anyways," she paused and looked at Hermione, who merely raised a brow at the woman. It seemed that the professor now also knew of her involvement. "I thought I could come and hand these O.W.L.s results to you personally."

Hermione perked up at that, and with a twitch at the corners of her lips, the woman passed her the results, then spending more than just a few minutes berating the boys for not dedicating more time to their studies.

She kept her attention on the paper in front of her, jaw going slack as her gaze rounded on the results.

_Transfiguration : O_

_Charms : O_

_Potions : O_

_History of Magic : O_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts : O_

_Astronomy : O_

_Herbology : O_

_Muggle Studies : O_

_Study of Ancient Runes : EE_

_Care of Magical Creatures : O_

An appalled gasp tore out of her mouth. "I got an Exceeds Expectations in Runes!" she cried out, slumping down in her chair in disappointment.

Sirius snatched the paper out of her hands and let out a disbelieving sound from the back of his throat. "_Blimey_, you didn't even take the class, and you still got an EE."

"Hermione," whispered James, his hazel eyes wide as he appeared in front of her, his face just a few inches away from her own. "You got _nine_ O.W.L.s!"

"Indeed, it is a great achievement coming from a student that missed more than a month of school," Professor McGonagall muttered by the side, clear pride etched on her face as she looked at her. "Not to mention your . . . _role_ in this growing war."

Hermione had half the mind to ask who actually told her about it, but she bit her tongue and settled down. "It seems you're here for another reason," she noted, receiving a nod in response.

"We have yet to have a conversation on your plans for the future, Hermione."

Her eyes widened at the mention of her given name, and she squirmed in her seat, unsure if she was prepared to even _think_ about the future. "I haven't given it much thought," she confessed with a scowl, glancing down at the ground.

"And why is that?" The woman shook her head, probably prepared for the answer before she'd even finished the question, and she sighed sharply. "Don't tell me you don't see a future for yourself!"

The hilarity of the question just barely lingered in her mind, as she thought of her Seer powers. Instead, she frowned at her words, her brows furrowed.

"Professor," she began slowly, her hands clasped tightly together. She stood up before James could notice them. "I doubt living in a lie could make life any easier."

Their Head of their House pressed her lips into a grim line, and she glanced at Dorea. "Surely, you know if she had anything planned before everything was set in motion?"

Hermione ignored Dorea's searching gaze, moving down the flagstone patio, and her gaze fixed on the borders of verdant trees, a variety of flowers—the tulips were her favourite and thanks to James's bragging, they _all_ knew that.

She almost smiled but the feeling soon faded once she heard someone behind her, following her every step. "Hermione," called Dorea softly, but she shook her head, turning around with her hands clenched.

"I don't know!" she insisted, her chest rising and dropping with heavy breaths. "I thought about becoming an Auror like the boys, but—I can't think of fighting any more after this is over!"

_If it is o_ver, she thought angrily. At Dorea's sharp gaze, she instantly felt like a child having a tantrum, and her head dropped in shame.

"You do know," Dorea said as she took a step towards her. She brought her into a tight hug, and Hermione sighed against her shoulder, closing her eyes as she revelled into the motherly embrace.

"I do?"

"Look for it, deep down," the Potter matriarch ordered, urging her to push within her mind to find her interest.

Therefore, Hermione did just that. She first imagined herself as a worker of the Ministry, but she shortly realized that corruption was so all over the place, that she doubted she would ever be able to enjoy a career like that.

She no longer wanted to deal with those who sought power.

Hermione then thought back to her previous years at Hogwarts and how, despite finding each subject fascinating, there was something about Charms that had her more enthralled than ever.

Her eyes then flew back to her professor, who was still waiting for her at the seating area, and she imagined a far future, where she could be Professor Flitwick's apprentice, just like Snape was planning to be Professor Slughorn's.

_Sounds like a plan_, Granger encouraged her, and when Hermione expressed her idea to everyone else, they all seemed to be just as supportive.

Hermione only hoped that she would actually _live_ to see such a future happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I ended the previous with a cliff-hanger, you guys deserved an early update, so here we are! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and feel free to let me know what you think! I adore each and every response I get.
> 
> By the way, I've also been editing my past chapters, and while it's a bit tiring since there's a whole sixty of them, it's so nice to see how far this story has come!


	62. Order and Fire

**August, 1976.**

Hermione met several people that she hadn't had the pleasure to meet before. Granger seemed to be obviously more familiar with faces like Molly and Arthur Weasley—so, so kind-hearted and welcoming—and of course, Minerva McGonagall.

There were also several others that she'd met already, along with Granger - who seemed just as displeased as her at seeing Mundungus Fletcher.

Unabashed by the distrust of the people around him, Dung walked proudly with a tray of delicacies, a smile on the criminal's face that deeply unsettled her, and she chose to look away before he could make his way towards her.

On the other hand, Sturgis Podmore, a wizard with a square jaw and thick straw-coloured hair, seemed very enthusiastic to tell her of his flying skills, having heard from a certain someone—the Prewett twins, she guessed—that she sucked at it.

Quite blunt, but he wasn't _wrong._

She greeted Elphias Doge and Dedalus Diggle—the latter an old friend of Dumbledore, who always seemed to be wearing a rather - _well_, a stupid hat as Moody had pointed out in a previous meeting.

The two men were quick to tell her of how pleased they were with her improvement ever since the first day they'd seen her, and Hermione's cheeks coloured at the praise, still thankful that Fabian had dragged her away from the conversation.

They stopped at a table dedicated to dessert, and she arched a brow at Gideon, who was shoving down a number of cupcakes. "Calm down. The food is not running away," she commented dryly, earning a snicker from Fabian and a glare from the hungry twin.

"Have you met Kingsley yet, little Black?" Fabian asked.

"What? Well, not _formally—_"

Fabian cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Good, because he's coming our way. Hey, partner in crime!"

Hermione spun around, her surprised gaze landing on Moody first before she noticed the amused smile on Kingsley Shacklebolt's face.

"That would be your twin brother, not me," corrected the Auror, before his gaze turned on her and he gave her a grin. "It's nice to finally meet you properly."

She sent the man a small smile. "Likewise."

"Did you have a nice day, Miss Black?"

"Hermione, please. As for my day, I actually decided on a career path after much pondering."

The twins perked up at that, and Gideon finally handed his plate over to his brother before standing right in front of her, a curious grin on his face. "Thinking of becoming the Minister of Magic?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest with a huff. "I would tell you what the procedure of becoming one is actually like, but I doubt you would want to hear about _that._"

She wore a withering glare when everyone, except for Kingsley, nodded along at the statement. "I'm thinking of becoming a Charms teacher."

Fabian breathed out a sigh of relief, and once he noticed the confusion etched on her face, he gestured towards Moody - the man pointedly avoiding her gaze. "If you decided to become an Auror and join Moody's department, he would never agree to retiring."

Baffled, she looked at the gruff man and approached him with an amused smile. "You're retiring? And you wouldn't do that if I were there to work with you?"

"You've been fed lies!" her mentor snapped, but she was unaffected by his tone. She tilted her head, a grin still on her face that he frowned at. "However, _yes_ \- it seems that _your_ dear Charlus Potter thinks I have worked for too many years—"

She pursed her lips, nodding slowly. "Well, you _are_ old—"

"—So, they're all waiting for me to retire this month! Nonsense!" he barked, throwing a glare her way at her comment.

She shrugged, grabbing a truffle from the plate in Fabian's hands and plopping it into her mouth. "Huh, this is _good_," she commented, grabbing another one and waving it close to Moody's face. "Want one?"

The man looked two seconds away from hexing her, but she _was_ her student, after all and she knew him well enough to be sure that he would never harm her knowingly. "You know I love you, Moody!"

Moody rolled his eyes, walking away even as Fabian guffawed loudly and told him to accept the only person that would ever tell him that they loved him.

* * *

There were many missions after that, where they were divided into units and took on as many Death Eaters as they could, but it was the pressure of finding the remaining Horcruxes that stressed Hermione to no end.

When she'd heard from Lucius that Voldemort was now followed around by a bloody _snake_, her muscles had tensed at the dread that rushed in, and she'd heard Granger mutter continuously that it just wasn't time yet.

So, Hermione was rightfully stressed, and she put her all in missions, instead; often coming home injured but pleased with her improvement, nonetheless.

The boys also practiced together with Abraxas whenever they could, Narcissa hesitantly joining as well, much to everyone's surprise.

Just like that, she found herself at Andromeda's house, gathered around her two cousins' in-laws, Uncle Alphard, and of course, her boys — all in celebration of her lovely, little brother's birthday!

After Regulus discreetly handed her a familiar diary—one that had haunted a certain eleven years old redhead's mind—she thanked him and apologized profusely for making him get involved.

"I still can't believe you had to get close to it, let alone touch it because of me! I'm so sorry."

The birthday boy shook his head adamantly. "It's alright, Hermione. I'm glad I got a chance to help you directly," he insisted with a small frown. "It was very easy distracting Rabastan and sneaking in his room."

Hermione nodded, albeit hesitantly.

She thought Voldemort to be a fool. To know that he had handed a part of his soul to a fifteen years old boy never bode well with her, but now that it was safe in her beaded bag, she was glad that she had the chance to stop the boy from being marked.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when Nymphadora began to cry, the one-year old pleading to remain in Narcissa's arms when Sirius insisted that he wanted to hold her, too.

"I can tell _I'll_ be your children's Godfather," Regulus muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes at Sirius, an amused smile still playing at his lips.

She looked back at him, surprised at the fleeting mention of possible, future children, and she shrugged, trying to push down her hopes. "I don't know . . . _Remus_ certainly seems like a safe option," she teased, her brows raising in satisfaction when her little brother blushed.

"I have to tell you something—"

She placed her hands on his shoulders. "You like him," she cut him off, her voice wavering however when she noticed his panicked look. "What?"

"Am I _that_ obvious?" he cried out, toning his voice down when Remus looked their way. She didn't have it in her to tell her brother that he could still hear them quite well.

_You are such a Slytherin_, Granger commented.

"I feel so drawn to Lupin. I — well, we have been spending so much time together," his eyes dropped to the ground, shyly, "and I'm sure you don't want to know what other _effects_ he has on me."

"I definitely don't," she hurried to agree, her eyes flickering towards Remus, who stood next to Peter, his cheeks bright red at the conversation he was hearing. "How about you talk to him about it? I have a feeling you'll be happy to hear what he has to say."

Her brother's eyes widened, a hopeful spark lighting up in grey that made her rather emotional. "You're growing up so fast," she whispered to herself, her voice breaking as she brought him into a tight hug. "If he tells you something shocking, I expect you to be supportive."

"That he's a werewolf?"

She could hear the glass in Remus's hands shatter to the ground, and she drew back immediately, her lips set into a firm line. "What?"

"You forget I'm your brother, Hermione. Sure, it took Severus and I much longer to notice it," he muttered dryly, sneaking a glance towards Remus before looking back at her in haste. "But we did it, didn't we? Of course, I panicked but it was _Severus_ that brought me to my senses and told me I was being a toe rag—whatever that means."

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to steady the loud beat of her heart. "Of course. I think you must go talk to him in private, while . . . while I get used to the idea of Snape being _accepting_."

.

Just like that, by the end of the party, her best friend and Regulus were dating, hand in hand as they pointedly ignored Sirius's idiotic, yet funny remarks.

Hermione turned to her boyfriend, her beaming smile widening further when he cupped her face in his hands and peppered her with kisses.

"Am I watching a Gryffindor mating session?" sneered Malfoy, disdain clear on his face as he watched from the sidelines, his own arm wrapped around Narcisa's waist.

"You forget Regulus is a Slytherin," she corrected, and he rolled his eyes at her, his lips pursed.

"Might as well be Gryffindor, with the way he acts around you lot."

"Don't make me remind you of how I caught you and Cissa together," Regulus sniped, satisfied when the Malfoy Heir huffed, and everyone shared looks of mirth amongst each other.

Oh, to see Walburga's face when she realized that she would never really achieve the impossible; breaking up the Black family.

* * *

Hermione had just finished a witty conversation with Phineas, when the Headmaster finally returned to his office, a slight smile on his face.

"Forgive me, Hermione. I was on a search to find yet another Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, however I come back in defeat."

The corners of her lips twitched at the strange wizard, tilting her head when a sudden idea popped in her head. "I could help you with that," she said eagerly, almost smirking at the brilliancy of the situation. "But I'm also here to hand in these two Horcruxes."

His grey, bushy brows rose in surprise, looking at her behind his glasses in befuddlement. "You found two in just a month?" he questioned, astonished as he looked down at the two pieces of Riddle's soul. The look faltered as soon as he touched the Horcruxes and placed them inside a certain drawer, his expression solemn and tight at the Dark aura.

"I did," she confirmed, squirming in her seat as she hurried to explain before he could complain about her taking matters into her own hands. "It just happened - _honestly_. Regulus helped me with the diary since I managed to fish out the right information at Hog's Head."

He nodded slowly, probably having heard of it already from Albeforth.

"As for the locket, well . . . it was a nightmare that assisted me. All I did was drink poison."

His blue gaze sharpened. "_Poison—_"

"I am fine," she assured him, leaning against the edge of the table as she sat up eagerly. "Now, as for the DADA teacher, I was thinking . . ."

* * *

It was a scorching, hot evening, when numerous Order members surrounded the abandoned home in front of them. Her knees cracked loudly as Hermione hopped around the bush, trying to get a better look at the dirt streaked window.

They had gotten an anonymous tip that Dark wizards had been seen around the area, and the Order had immediately complied with the plan that she and the Fenwicks had put together.

It was then that she felt her coin heat up, sending her head snapping down for her gaze to catch the message.

_It's a fucking distraction set to attack the McKinnons' house without intrusion. Hurry up. — L. M._

Panic seized her, and her breath was tearing through her lungs, thicker than air should ever be. "The McKinnons are being attacked. I need to go!" she shouted, standing up frantically as panic set in, throbbing hotly in her veins, and she just barely caught Dorcas and Benjy's distraught expressions.

Moody tensed, but nodded tightly. "Take your unit—"

Hermione apparated away, knowing damn well that they would be able to catch up to her on their own.

There was a flash of purple that missed her arm by just an inch, halting her heart. Her stomach caved in when she caught the dark smoke that engulfed the entrance. "Who the fuck set the house on fire?" she heard Dorcas yell.

"They've set Anti-Apparition wards," Hermione informed them as she turned towards the members that had apparated by her side, and she ordered a few of them to wait and Portkey as many Death Eaters as they could to the Auror Department.

She moved down the hall, sending an _Impedimenta_ at a masked man, air choking out from her tight throat as she tried to simultaneously yell at the other members to use the Portkeys they were given to take themselves and the McKinnons to safety.

Her back crashed harshly into the hard wall, and she heard something click painfully in her neck, but her wide gaze still locked on the man ahead. She clenched her wand into a tight grip and glared at the dark eyes that roamed over her figure.

"Oh, just a little girl," the man said, his voice steely with a smirk under the mask that matched the tone. He stepped closer and his wand rolled between in his fingers. "Now, this is no time to play—"

A scoff as she stood up, and then, "_Depulso!_"

The Death Eater stumbled backwards once the wind gust hit his distracted figure, and her wand aimed at the wall behind him. "_Expulso!_" she cried out, watching as heated debris fell on the man and buried him just enough to restrain him.

Noticing another Order member heading their way, she sent the Death Eater one last look and ran down the hallway. Her boots thudded against the pavement and she slid into a room nearby, her wild gaze searching for anyone inside, and when she found it empty, her gaze flicked back to Benjy when he called for her.

"I'm taking Marlene!" he informed her, and she nodded stiffly, despite her strong need to make sure that her friend was fine.

Her eyes quickly landed on the beam of light directed towards Dorcas's moving form, and Hermione quickly called for a Shield Charm to protect them both, just in time for the other woman to notice the Death Eater.

"Thank you. I owe you one," Dorcas breathed, her anxious eyes still pinned down to the hallway. "I need to get Ilana, _please—_"

Hermione nodded firmly, looking back at the frustrated Death Eater. "I'll hold him back. You Portkey her and Ophelia out of here, and I'll do the same with Julia."

She could hear the faint cries of the child, and she continued to step back as she heard Dorcas run off and loudly force Ilana and Ophelia to take the _damn_ Portkey—the former insisting that she needed to see her daughter.

Hermione took a deep breath when the voices could no longer be heard, glaring at the Death Eater that had enough of playing with her. She barely managed to avoid the green light that blasted the door behind her, and she rolled to her feet, aiming her wand in the direction she'd intended.

"_Expulso!_" She could hear the chandelier shatter down on the Death Eater's form as she stood up, and she called for Emmeline to take him away.

Her head jerked down to the last door in the hallway, a ball welling and growing inside her throat when she heard the loud cries coming from the child.

She breathed in deeply, her throat burning and raw, and her feet numb as she tried to rush to the room. Disoriented from the growing, thick smoke of the flames that stung her lungs, she didn't notice the Death Eater that had crept behind her until she was sent skittering down the tiles.

Pain shot from the small of her back, and she cried out a choked groan, clenching her teeth tight once she managed to pull herself up.

She whirled around, her eyes blind with tears as she thankfully managed to restrain the man for enough time to run towards the room.

Pushing the door open, Hermione gathered the two years old girl in her arms, patting her blonde hair, a hollow ache in her gut that made her realize she was sobbing along with her, now.

"Mommy—"

"She's safe, baby," she assured her, her voice hitching when she heard loud, booming steps approach them. Her hand dove down to her purse, carefully bringing up the stone wrapped in a small handkerchief.

The fire was only going to grow now, and she couldn't wait any longer. Hermione pushed it into Julia's small hands, hastily looking at her watery, blue gaze before her attention flew to the steely laugh coming from the doorway.

She also knew that she couldn't let _him_ distract her from sending the girl to safety. Nor could she _leave_ him behind—

"All that for a useless kid?" the man taunted, voice hard and cold, and she pushed the child behind her, a tight hold on the handkerchief. She pulled it away from the stone, satisfied when she heard a crack at Julia's departure.

"An arsehole like you wouldn't understand," she spat, baring her teeth in an unpleasant, condescending smile. "_Expelliarmus!_"

The man moved away from his spot in a sharp movement, a tight nod sent her way before _Crucio_ slipped out of his mouth.

There was a tightness that soared up to her throat as she moved away from the spell, and her magic thrummed with hot, blinding rage when she shouted, "_Incarcerous!_"

Ropes flew out of her wand and bound the man in a tight hold, making him fall to the ground in a loud thump. He barked out several profanities, trying to shrug himself off the grip and failing miserably.

"You can't get out of here either, _bitch_," he spat as the smell of smoke, sulfur and Dark magic mingled together. She gasped for air through all the phlegm and bile, coughing violently into her sleeve.

Wide eyes set on the large flames that were beginning to engulf the doorway, she looked helplessly at the man and levitated him near the window.

There was only a way to leave now.

She pushed the latch to the window open, ignoring the Death Eater's string of curses and panicked inquiries. She then casted a Cushioning Charm on both of them, her lungs stinging at each word she rasped out.

The man was now yelling in her face and she gripped his body tightly over the edge of the window. Her throat clicked wetly once she pushed him off, gazing down to make sure he'd landed safely on the grass below.

_Hurry up!_ Granger shouted when Hermione looked back at the flames that had filled the whole room now, and she hopped on the edge, just barely feeling the hot crackle at the ends of her hair as she jumped.

She felt herself fall back on the ground as though she was weightless, landing painlessly on the grass. Her eyes slammed shut, she could feel the brutal ache from the smoke she'd inhaled for so long, and she forced out a booming cough in the lengthened silence around them.

But once she realized why it should _not_ be quiet, she jumped to her knees, glancing at her side, and staring at the Death Eater, her gaze frantic as she took in his disbelieving one.

"You _saved_ me," he choked out, his voice strangled.

And just then, several cracks of apparition were heard, Aurors stepping closer to take the man away, and Order members approaching her with worry etched on their face.

"We got them all?" she asked, her voice hoarse and cracked, and she wished one of them could think of giving her water, but they were all staring at her long braid in disbelief.

_Moody_, of all people, looked concerned.

"Black, your hair is burning!"

* * *

Once Hermione had made sure that the McKinnons were safe and healthy—not one, except Ilana, knowing that she'd even been there—and that they had a place at the Bones residence, she'd finally relented to Moody's demands and gone home.

As soon as she had entered, she'd been engulfed into a tight hug that had her gasping and choking for breath for far more times than she'd wished to in a day.

Once Sirius and James had let go and told her of how the Potters had informed them of where she'd gone, Hermione insisted that she and Marlene were both fine - much to their relief.

Eventually—after a familiar haircut that once again left her curls falling just a bit past her shoulders—Sirius wanted to make sure that she didn't leave again for the night.

Hermione, feeling the deep worry coming off the twin bond, nodded with a gentle smile and thanks to Mipsy, who eagerly added a second bed in her room for the night, they had a sleepover—though, the boys refused to call it that.

"It's not a _bad_ word!" she muttered in complaint, pulling her blanket down her face to argue with both boys that lay by her side.

"Yes, yes," Sirius said offhandedly, his mutters drowned out by James's loud yawns. "Rest now, little sister. Your poor boyfriend did more exercise today—by pacing around, worried—than on any Quidditch practice."

"_Oi!_" James protested, one of his legs tangling over her own as he settled his face on the crook of her neck. Giving her a snug squeeze that left her smiling wide into the darkness, he continued, "I'll have you know you're talking to the Gryffindor Quidditch team's new Captain!"

"I miss Frank already," teased Sirius, moving further to the side when James tried to reach over her to punch his arm. They heard a loud thud as Sirius fell to the floor, her and James's soft laughter drowned out in the background.

Hermione was sure that they could all feel it - how _nice_ it was to argue about frivolous matters like Quidditch teams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I would love to hear what you have to say about the chapter, or even just the story in general! I hope you enjoyed it, and that you're having a good day. I just finished watching Umbrella Academy's first season, and I can't believe I still have to wait another week for the second one!
> 
> I would also like to thank you for over 600 kudos. It is so heartwarming to know that you are enjoying this story so far. I intend not to disappoint!


	63. Her Name

**September, 1976.**

Hermione could still hardly believe that she was back on Platform 9¾. A wide smile grew on her lips at the incessant hooting of owls and the emotional words of families all around her.

They were gathered around Charlus and Dorea, who took their time hugging each one of them, even Peter and Remus as they eventually joined the group.

She had even caught a glimpse of Diana Pettigrew and was pleased with the colour that had now returned on her face. She would make sure to thank her uncle later.

For now, however, she stared down at Walburga, the woman probably having insisted she saw Regulus off, even though he hadn't spent one day with her throughout the whole summer.

Either the woman didn't notice her, or she was pointedly ignoring her glares as she fussed over Regulus. James eventually tucked his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her from behind, drawing her attention away from Walburga.

"Is everything alright?" he whispered, steering her to face his parents instead, as Dorea continued to reason with Sirius as to why he should stop causing trouble now.

"It's a bit overwhelming," she admitted, and when she caught Marlene's eyes, she relaxed greatly. She jumped into her friend's arms, a relieved laugh slipping past her lips. "Are you okay? I—we learned about the attack through Charlus."

The blonde nodded, her eyes glistening a bit when she pulled away. "We were so lucky," she told them, glancing back at Sirius, who didn't hesitate pulling her into a side embrace. "We got sent away just before the house completely caught on fire."

Hermione tried to pull an interested look on her face, hiding the fact that she knew all about the attack by just being there, too. "And how have you been since then?"

"Luckily, we have another estate in Derby, so my mum and I shifted there, while Ilana and Russel are staying with the Bones."

Dorea and Charlus immediately comforted the blonde with kind words, warmly telling her to inform her mother that they wished to help as much as they could.

Once it was time to go and they'd given final hugs to the Potters, Hermione looped her arm through Marlene's, and she grinned at her friend, leading her towards the train.

With the boys following close behind with everyone's trunks, Hermione stepped forward, hesitant when several heads snapped back to look at her, whispers beginning as soon as they caught sight of her.

Her hold on Marlene tightened as they looked for an empty compartment, trying desperately to ignore their words of gossip. They hadn't even reached Hogwarts, for Merlin's sake!

She felt James lay his arm around her shoulders—the scent of apple, citrus, and spice allowing her tense muscles to ease, and he led them down to their usual compartment.

Hermione let out a tired sigh, sitting in between James and Sirius. "That was awful," she murmured, eyeing the small window of the door, from where she could see the students pass by.

Remus gave her a sympathetic look, sitting up to hand her a familiar book. "Can I indulge in some reading to distract you?"

Loud groans came in the background with mutters of _'bookworms'_ and _'why not Quidditch?'_, which her and Remus pointedly ignored, sharing thoughts of books they'd recently read.

.

Hermione had just been coming back from a trip to the loo, when she halted at a familiar head, full of chestnut hair. It snapped back at her loud _'oh'_, showing the surprise etched on Amos's face.

"Hermione," he exclaimed evenly, his eyes dropping down to her body and not caring to be subtle as he checked her out. She folded her arms across her chest, hoping he could catch a hint as to how uncomfortable she was at the moment.

The boy was a bit daft. "You look good," he commented with a tilt of his head, an obnoxious smile on his face.

_He's acting like McLaggen_, commented Granger with a hint of disgust.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Thank you. Could you move, please?" she bit out, looking over his shoulders to the compartment, where the boys and Marlene were still waiting for her.

"Now, hold on," he complained, put-out like a two years old child who had been denied play time. "I'm willing to give you another chance, Hermione. _Really_," he added the last word when he saw the befuddled look on her face.

Had he forgotten the very fact that she had broken up with him _and_ his nose?

She raised her nose, her lips pressed into a thin line. "No, now _move_," she ordered, this time louder, but she immediately regretted it once the door to her compartment slammed open.

The Marauders sauntered out — even Marlene, who immediately seemed to take in the situation, and she sent Amos a fierce glare.

Amos paid them no mind, his steely gaze still fixed on her.

"What's happening, Hermione?" asked James as he joined her side, taking her hand in his.

A dangerous shadow passed on Amos's face when he noticed the gesture, unsettling her to no end as she thought of the boy she'd believed him to be.

He looked _nothing_ like it. "You're . . . with _him?_" he asked, a disbelieving gaze taking in her closeness to James. "He's a joker, babe. You remember how he used to proudly confess his feelings for Evans in public, but he hasn't said a word about you — _ever?_"

She stared at him, jaw slack. "Amos, what makes you think you have any business in who I'm dating?" she questioned sharply, pausing when James squeezed her hand lightly.

"I thought we had something!" the Hufflepuff cried out, his nostrils flaring as he took a step forward. "Why are you so keen on being with _him_, but when you were with me . . . you always hesitated—"

A disbelieving scoff tore out of her mouth, and his eyes sharpened further. "You always hesitated," he repeated, his tone lowering further as his sharp gaze assessed her, "but feel so strongly for this _blood traitor?_"

Her grip on her wand tightened painfully, her knuckles turning white when he took yet another step forward. If he dared to say _one_ more word against James—

"And you're _whoring_ yourself for him? You're a fucking _blood traitor whore—_"

Amos cut himself off, but he wasn't quick enough when James tackled him, his fist colliding with his face. Hermione stared in shock when his hand came back with blood on his knuckles, slamming it back on Amos's face again. "You piece of wasted, rotten—"

"James, no!" Remus moved to grab him by the shoulders, struggling to keep him in his hold when he tried to shrug the werewolf off. No one managed to see Sirius moving to slam Amos's back on the floor — the crack of bone meeting bone resounding around them when her twin landed another punch on the boy's bloody face.

Her stomach rolled and she tried to hold James back by wrapping her arms around his torso from behind, and she shut her eyes at yet another crack around them. "Sirius, _stop it!_" she pleaded, letting go of James to kneel on the floor.

She hurried to latch her fingers on her twin's arm before he could move it back again, and she pushed him up to his feet with all the strength she had. She held both of her boys back - Peter, Remus and Marlene quick to help her out with that.

"What's going on here?"

Hermione dragged her eyes away from Amos as he yelled something incoherent, instead glancing at Lily and Snape. It seemed to her that they were back from a Prefect meeting.

She stared at Lily in apprehension, sure that the redhead would take more than enough points away from the boys, but she was surprised when Lily glared at Amos, instead. "You said something, didn't you?"

"He called her a—a blood traitor whore," Peter provided with a grimace, leaning further away into Remus's side when Sirius and James visibly tensed again.

"Detention with Slughorn, then," Snape said calmly, looking at his girlfriend for confirmation.

The redhead nodded, a fierce fire lit in her eyes. "For a whole week, I'd say," she finalized, turning away from the Hufflepuff as he complained gruffly, and she glanced at Hermione. "Are you okay?"

Pushing down her surprise, her shoulders hunched once she noticed Amos's bruises. "Go to a teacher and get healed," she barked, her tone close to Moody's when he was annoyed. She then nodded gratefully at Lily.

"I'll help you heal the boys," the Prefect murmured, assessing the injuries on their hands. She looked back at Snape, who nodded but not before sending Amos a sneer.

.

They eventually all gathered back into their compartment, and her mind wandered back to the stark contrast that was their first ride to Hogwarts. And here they were, Lily and Snape, of all people, helping them out.

Once Hermione Episkey'd the boys' bruised knuckles, she looked back up at the two Prefects, grateful for their presence. "Thank you."

Snape wore a slow smirk, not looking at James once when he spoke, "Not to say your Gryffindor drama isn't entertaining, but I'd rather not stay here any longer."

Lily rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, her expression falling when she looked at Hermione. "I'm truly sorry for everything I did, Black. As a girl myself, I should've known better than to drug you on the basis of mere assumptions."

Hermione sighed heavily, her head falling against the wall behind her. "It's okay," she insisted slowly, "_really_."

It seemed that was all they could converse about, because the two left soon after letting Remus in on what he'd missed at the Prefect meeting.

James and Sirius remained quiet for most of the ride, despite her attempts to make them talk about what had occurred with Amos.

She didn't have it in her to chastise them for their actions, so she simply placed her feet on Sirius's lap, as her head settled on James's and she laid on the bench; James's fingers softly running through her curls.

Eventually, Sirius spoke up after he cleared his throat, glancing down at her to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep.

"Was Diggory right?" he asked quietly, his gaze darting between the two. There was a flash of realization in his eyes that were soon set ablaze with a cold rage. "James—" he began through gritted teeth.

"Do you really want to believe what _Diggory_ says?" commented Remus, a frown set on his face as he tried to reason for her sake. Though, from the way his nose had often twitched when he came to visit them at the manor, she knew he was quite aware of what was the truth.

"Of course not!" Sirius protested, his eyes wide as he looked down at her. "I would never trust him, but . . . when I agreed to letting you share the room with her during the summer, I trusted you, Prongs."

James's head snapped down, his hesitant eyes straying from her brother. She could see his lips curve down at the comment, and she had enough of Sirius making him feel bad.

"That's enough, Sirius," she said with a soft sigh, making sure he could see that she didn't have it in her to stop yet another fight. "You've been doing the same thing with Marlene! You don't see _me_ getting mad at anyone."

He shrunk down at the argument, settling further back against the large window. Showing her both of his palms to placate her, he said, "I know," and at her exasperated look, he continued, "it's just that — well, he took your _maidenhead!_"

Her eyes sharped and she audibly _growled_ at his words, ignoring the sniggering from everyone else. At least, James had finally relaxed after the fight with Amos.

"Sirius Orion Black, don't call it maidenhead! And yes, he took it and you will deal with it. _Am. I. Clear?_"

Sirius nodded slowly, panicked, grey eyes flickering up to meet her boyfriend's gaze. He jutted his chin once more. "Yes."

Hermione smiled brightly, resting her eyes shut. "Great," she murmured, pointedly ignoring the stupid bickering of the boys and Marlene in the background.

Despite it all, she loved them all dearly.

* * *

The last kid had just finished being sorted, when the boys _finally_ noticed the addition at the High Table.

"Bloody hell," murmured James slowly, "is that _Moody?_"

All but Remus looked quite alarmed at the sight of him, having gone through a couple of training sessions with him in the summer, and having hated them terribly.

Alastor Moody didn't have a soft spot for just anyone, but he did for _her_ and that was how she'd convinced him to accept her offer—well aware of how much he'd hated being retired from the Auror Department.

Hermione nodded happily, a wide grin on her face when the Headmaster went to introduce the new DADA teacher. Murmurs began from the students as they stared at the scowling teacher, but Hermione cheered for him loudly, something that appeared to annoy him greatly.

He sent her a sharp glare, but it didn't faze her, at all. She simply sent him a salute and then fixed a stare at the dinner for the night, being told to finally tuck in.

After just a spoonful of roasted potatoes, her eyes rolled back, and she expelled a satisfied sigh. Sure, she had loved the meals at Potter manor, but there was a deeper attachment to the feasts at Hogwarts.

It felt like _home._

.

Once Hermione had just enough chocolate éclairs—having had a rather amusing competition with Remus to see who could _wolf_ them down faster—and she admittedly lost, her eyes caught the sight of Dumbledore and Moody leaving the Great Hall.

She took the chance to bid her best friends goodnight—Sirius waving an absentminded hand as he continued to flirt with Marlene—and she followed both wizards to the Headmaster's office.

Eventually, they settled in their respective seats, and the corners of her lips twitched when Granger insisted that she must check if it was _really_ Moody.

Her wand aimed at her mentor, she cleared her throat loudly and tilted her head. "Forgive me, _Professor_. I've been told I must keep _constant vigilance._ What form does my Patronus take?"

At that, Moody gave her a slow grin and rolled his eyes. "A stag."

Hermione smiled sweetly at the man and turned towards Dumbledore, nodding in satisfaction. "It's all safe," she informed him, much to the amusement of the Headmaster.

"Thank you, Hermione," he told her, a bright twinkle in his blue eyes. "Let us hope the student body is just as satisfied with Professor Moody."

She pursed her lips. She hadn't cared much about _that_. "Hold on . . . I never thought of the possibility of Moody teaching possible Death Eaters, too!"

It was then that Moody stopped brooding in his seat and caught her attention, his cane rapping loudly against the floor. "I have it all planned, lass. I'm not stupid," he insisted adamantly, "but I _do_ have a task for you. You'll do it, won't you?"

She nodded immediately.

"Good. Gather all the students that you find to be safe and train them yourself."

_Like Dumbledore's Army_, Granger commented quietly. _I forced Harry to do it, and now you're being told to do it, as well . . ._

Hermione sat back in her chair, deep in thought as she pondered over the request. It wasn't bad, per se — the war _was_ growing, and the students _will_ have to protect themselves, one day; no matter how much she wished to protect their innocence.

"Fine. I'll have to make more Galleons and think of a name," better than _Dumbledore's_ Army - _like seriously, what were they thinking?!_

* * *

_Somewhere far in England, in one of the many large rooms of Nott manor, the owner stood before his Master, proud and tall at what he was about to reveal._

_"Hermione Black was there, my Lord. I put up the wards and left right after the Order members appeared."_

_Lip curled with a twisted look, Voldemort turned his crimson gaze on Lucius Malfoy, who was sat amongst many cloaked figures at the large table. "Lucius . . ."_

_The Malfoy Heir swallowed down his dread. "My Lord?"_

_"Is her name on the list?"_

_There was no way out of this._

_". . . Yes, my Lord."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, oh . . . the last part doesn't sound like good news for Hermione. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I would love to know what you have to say about it or the story in general.


	64. Public

**September, 1976.**

Hermione felt grumpier than usual when she plopped into a seat besides Remus and Sirius at breakfast. Peter immediately set coffee for her and she sent him a slow nod in gratitude, still tired from her exercise.

She rolled her head back, feeling the muscles in her neck tense and ease at the action. She blinked a couple of times before she set up her plate, still not quite noticing the certain absence of her boyfriend until a loud _'pop'_ sounded around the Great Hall.

Her eyes widened comically as Peeves zoomed over the tables, dropping yellow tulip petals down onto the students, with James entering right after him, his gaze fixed on Amos and a brow raised in silent challenge.

He then began to strut towards her, and she allowed her appreciative gaze to wash over his handsome face. Two small lines always formed around his smile whenever it was directed at _her_, and she felt rather special.

James stopped in front of her, offering her a hand and she took it gratefully. She stood up, giving him a quizzical raise of her brow. He smiled brightly at the mere sight of her.

"Hermione Cassiopeia Black," he began loudly, gathering the attention of the few students that still hadn't looked up at his entrance.

Even the teachers at the table looked curious, though Dumbledore and Moody were still absent.

"My dear _girlfriend_, would you allow me the honour to take you to a Hogsmeade date?" he asked, his head tilting adorably at her.

She rolled her eyes, a hand coming up to cup his cheek softly. She had never been one to feel comfortable with public displays of affection with Diggory - but now . . . it felt like her and James were the only ones in the room.

"Such an arrogant git," she muttered with a wry grin, and she nodded promptly. "Of course. You just _are_ so handsome."

When she pecked his cheek with a brief kiss, his hand came up to graze the spot her lips had touched, and he backed away slowly, proudly hitting his chest with a glorious fist before pulling it into the air.

"She said yes!" he whooped, gathering claps in celebration for having done such an _impossible_ feat. He kept walking back, his hazel, gorgeous gaze still pinned on her, when Moody appeared behind him and he cleared his throat.

James jumped, whirling around with his hand still in the air. "Moody—I mean Professor," he stammered, looking back at Hermione before meeting the man's gaze again. "She said yes."

Moody rolled his eyes, huffing out a short, disbelieving laugh before a more serious look took over his face. "It is with much _disappointment_ that I tell you she can't go to Hogsmeade."

Hermione stood at an instant, her eyes wide as she went to complain—she was sure she'd gotten done with the training on Hogsmeade weekends!

"Hermione, come with me!" he barked, and as she hurried past James, she managed to throw a reassuring glance over his way — frowning at his fallen smile.

_Damn you, Moody._

* * *

"What's happening?" Hermione asked when she stepped into Dumbledore's office. Moody had kept quiet no matter how many times she tried to pry it out of him, and she'd decided to just ask the Headmaster, instead.

When she found the desk empty, she eyeballed the large room and her gaze caught sight of him in front of the fireplace, soft, familiar murmurs coming from the Floo.

"Who is it?" she asked as she approached the older wizard, Moody trailing behind her.

Dumbledore moved away slightly, so that she could sit next to him and finally look at the two men on the Floo call.

She had half the mind to joke about the Malfoys missing her already, but she caught the tight lines of their jaw - both sporting rather apprehensive frowns. "What happened?"

Lucius scowled, huffing out a harsh breath.

"The Dark Lord knows."

She shuttered in a sharp breath, dread dropping like a cold weight into her stomach. Anxiety bloated the inside of her throat, and her heart pumped hard against the walls of its confines, until she felt nauseous.

"_What?_" she rasped out, looking at Abraxas in foolish hope that he would say something completely different.

The green flames couldn't hide the sad sheen in Abraxas's eyes, and she tightly clasped her hands together.

"It seems yesterday was a trap." Lucius sighed heavily, glancing away with what looked like regret on his face. "I should've known. Nott saw you and apparated away before he set up the wards. He told the Dark Lord of your presence and I—I was asked about your birthday."

"So, you mean to say I—he knows I'm the Chosen One?"

An uneasy nod, and her world was turned on its axis.

.

They spent the next hour or so, trying to figure out how to protect her as much as they could. Dumbledore had informed the Order of the turn of events, and they'd all agreed with making sure she stayed at Hogwarts, no matter what.

"You want me to hide like a coward?" she demanded, when Dumbledore went as far as saying that she was no longer allowed to even leave for missions. "I am not some weak—"

"I know you don't like it," Abraxas cut her off softly, "but there's no place safer than Hogwarts."

Hermione let out a harsh scoff, her mind flashing with images of the Battle of Hogwarts that had occurred in this same castle, though in a different dimension. "That is not completely true."

Moody, having had enough of others trying to reason with her, stood at once and stared down at her, a fierce scowl on his face.

"Listen here, Hermione. You are the only hope this Wizarding world has to survive the war, and you can't go acting like a child now! If you think it's not safe, do something about it, instead of lamenting."

Hermione stood as well, her chair falling back as she stepped in front of Moody. "I will," she insisted loudly, looking away before he could notice the falter in her glare. "I will."

.

"Hermione?"

She noticed the faint worry etched on their faces, and she looked away immediately, instead opting to sit down on her bed before her composure could falter.

"What happened?" asked Remus, a furrow in his brows that told her of how anxious he was at her silence.

Hermione clenched her hands together, her gaze sweeping around the dorm and halting on her twin. He was unusually quiet, a mask of calmness that she knew he was keeping for her.

"He knows," she whispered, and as he was moving to join her on the mattress, James's steps faltered. She glanced at each one of the boys, and repeated, "Voldemort knows."

* * *

In the next few weeks, Hermione took her time to get used to attending actual classes—unlike the last, few months of her fifth year that she'd spent at home—and the boys - well, they were _tense_.

As soon as they'd found out about Voldemort knowing who she actually was, they had been set on not only focusing on DADA as much as they could, but also distracting her from rebelling and possibly going against Dumbledore's orders.

They went as far as accompanying her to the library, all to spend their time with her and consequently, focus more on all of their studies, as well.

Well, _there_ was one thing to thank Tom Riddle for.

Hermione had also prepared enough Galleons for the students that were now gathered in an old, unused classroom. She had just finished making sure that they all signed their names on the paper - to be sure _no one _could ever think of betraying Hermione Black.

_Again, you're welcome_, Granger quipped.

And Hermione would have smiled, if she wasn't standing in front of so many students, huddled in the middle of the room with no chairs or desks.

A nervous, shaky breath slipped past her lips. How had Harry possibly done this?

_If anyone else can do it, it's you_, Granger insisted.

Peter must have noticed her uneasiness because he urged all of the boys to wave at her excitedly from the back of the room.

She rolled her eyes, feeling the corners of her mouth twitch. She took a deep breath and set an unwavering gaze around the students.

"We are here today because there is a man out there, who foolishly believes that your blood says anything about the power in your magic. We are here to prove Voldemort wrong."

Frightened gasps echoed in the room at the mention of his name, and she shook her head adamantly. "_Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself_," she claimed and crossed her arms over her chest, making sure everyone nodded at her words.

Then, she walked closer to her peers and offered them a small smile that she hoped looked encouraging. It was only then that she caught several people eyeing Snape and Regulus skeptically, and she pursed her lips.

"The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters. We've all got both light and dark inside of us," she insisted, her gaze landing on Lily. "And we should know better than to hold prejudice in us towards anyone. Lily Evans is a brilliant student. Does her being a Muggleborn change anything?"

Everyone in the room hurried to shake their heads, and she nodded slowly. "Exactly. So, someone being in Slytherin shouldn't change anything, unless they also hold prejudice in their minds."

"Like most Slytherins at the moment," someone commented from the back, and she swallowed. She couldn't exactly deny _that_ \- as barely any other Slytherin had been able to be part of this club.

She awkwardly coughed into the back of her hand. "Yes - well . . . what should we name this? Moody's Army?" She laughed at the pale faces that greeted the suggestion, shaking her head in amusement. "We shall do _Phoenix's_ Army."

Granger snorted. _Quite fitting._

.

And just like that, Hermione had mimicked the initial lessons she'd received with Moody - though at a much slower pace with these students.

Since the Marauders previously had enough practice from summer break, she worked on getting them to cast their first Patronus. After Moody had given up on shutting them up, they'd chosen to work with Abraxas instead, and she had a feeling it was now time.

She began with Sirius and Peter — their Patronuses turning out to be their Animagus forms and then, in Remus's case, Moony.

She gave the werewolf a light squeeze on the shoulder when he frowned at the silver wolf. He sent her a half-smile, looking back at Regulus longingly and once she nodded, he decided to walk up to him.

She'd already caught a glimpse of the wolf that was _Regulus's_ Patronus.

Her mouth lifted into a small smile when she walked up to James, noticing the firm line of his brows and the focus drawn on his face as he tried to cast the spell.

Only a faint light puffed out from the tip, and his head hung back in frustration. She hurried to catch his attention before he could give up.

Thinking back to Abraxas's words, Hermione told him, "Look deeper, James. Think of the moment that left your body filled with pure joy, or even just imagine a future day, where you know you'll be left smiling for hours."

His intense gaze remained on her, his chest rising in slow breaths, and he gave her a small smile before nodding. She watched as he shut his eyes for a few seconds, his long lashes fluttering as he cried out, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

Their wide, expectant eyes flew to his wand as a flash of blue burst out of the tip, and the light shifted into the form of a small puppy.

James chuckled loudly, probably having seen this coming, while she kept to gaping at the small pup—no, _Cub_, that was certainly _her!_

She shakily called for her own Patronus, and was eventually brought into a tight, side hug as they both stared at the stag and puppy nestling against each other.

It was only when the Patronuses faded, that they noticed that every student had stopped what they'd been doing and were smiling in astonishment at her and James.

"Why didn't you all react to _my_ Patronus like that?" commented Sirius loudly, to which Marlene smacked the back of his head, and she sent Hermione and James two thumbs up.

* * *

Hermione's head snapped up at the sound of the door opening, and she caught a glimpse of James's wild hair as he entered the dorm.

He didn't look too tired from the Quidditch practice he'd been away for, and she noted the absence of the other boys. "Where's everyone?"

He padded towards her bed, jumping on the mattress and gathering her in his arms with a loud _'oof'_. He didn't bother letting out any sound of protest when she ran a hand through his hair, instead leaning into her touch.

"Sirius is still showering. Remus is helping Peter with his Transfiguration essay in the Common Room," he murmured, peppering her collarbones with small kisses.

She laughed, feeling his breath tickle her skin. "How was practice?"

He expelled a loud groan, his nose scrunching in frustration. "Tim Robbins still isn't used to being a Chaser," he answered, falling back by her side and staring up at the deck of her bed. "I'm not a bad Captain, am I?"

She leaned on the side, her gaze sweeping over his knitted brows and the tongue poking out his cheek. "Of course not," she reassured him, continuing to play with his soft curls. "I'm sure the team will eventually fall back into a proper routine."

He nodded reluctantly, a lopsided grin sent her way when he turned his head to look at her. "You have no idea how many times they've told me about how bloody _wicked_ you are."

Hermione tensed slightly, remembering how she had a feeling that the members of the PA knew of her role in the war, having often caught the sight of her _blood traitor_ scar — not to mention her skills that they compared to well known Aurors.

And once they'd heard the whispers of the Chosen One coming from the dungeons . . . it was as if suddenly, they all knew it was her but feared to confront her about it.

Even _Marlene_ hadn't said a word about it, though Hermione had often caught her staring numerous times, a searching look on her face.

Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes. "They shouldn't be talking about it in front of the younger years!" When James raised a brow however, she begrudgingly continued, "but thank them for me . . . I _guess_."

"You _are_ awesome, you know," he commented, his glasses askew, but not hiding the tender gaze that swept over her face. "You're perfect."

Her lips twitched into a small smile, but it faltered at the thought of her role in the war. "I don't know if I'm so good," she whispered, leaning closer to his warmth in hopes it would erase all her worries. "Do you think I'll be able to do what the Prophecy expects me to?"

She could see the lines of his jaw tighten at the reminder of the Prophecy, and something close to fear sparked in his eyes, him biting his lip as he stared at her. It seemed that he was trying to rein in his own emotions to comfort her.

"Of course," he insisted passionately. "Hermione, you need to know that you're not alone in this fight. That Prophecy is _nothing_ to me, when I know that you'll get out of this war just fine, with us by your side."

She could feel the growing burn in her eyes, and he paused at the sight, immediately bringing her into a tight embrace. "We got this."

Hermione leaned back at his words and she nodded fiercely, bringing her hands up to cup his face. He felt so soft—so warm against her touch, and she loved him terribly.

His nose nudged hers as he inched closer and he kissed her, _hard_. Their lips moved in tandem, a fierce need growing, desperately trying to save the fading hope in their hearts with the other's touch.

A loud cough startled them, and Hermione jolted back, almost stumbling off the bed, when Remus caught her mid air and pushed her back on the bed with an amused smile.

"I'm sorry," he told them with a small laugh, moving away to sit down on his bed, and stretching his legs lazily.

"No, you're not, mate," James commented, almost _pouting_ as he eyed the werewolf. "You're lucky we like you, Moony!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes. _So_ lucky."

She laughed, sitting up against a bunch of pillows as she threw a sly glance towards her best friend. "One would think you don't like us," she teased, and James chuckled by her side.

"I bet he only likes _Regulus_."

At that, they had to lean further towards the wall to avoid the pillows thrown their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the lesson Sirius and James taught him wasn't enough, I'm sure Amos now regrets having ever said anything! Anyways, I hope you liked the chapter, and I would really love to hear what you have to say.


	65. Portkeys

**October, 1976.**

James strutted in, his gaze sweeping past the Great Hall until it stopped on Hermione. Her arms were folded on the table, and she seemed to be nodding off.

He bit his lip before a lopsided grin could split on his face and other students could get a chance to call him barmy. He stepped forward, intent on making his way towards her, when Moody called for him.

"Potter!"

He whirled around, frowning slightly at the DADA professor. Why was the man so intent on making him suffer? "Yes?" he asked, confused.

"Going to Hermione, were you?" Moody clapped him on the back with much more strength than necessary, and James straightened, holding back the narrow of his eyes.

"I was, yes," he allowed slowly, glancing at the man's magical eye and wondering how much he could see with it. Merlin forbid, he couldn't see James _naked_ right now, could he?

Moody ignored the horror that grew on his face, instead leading him away from the Great Hall, and consequently, away from Hermione.

He bit down all the questions he had when they reached his office, and Moody gestured for him to sit on the chair in front of him.

"What are your intentions with the lass?"

His jaw went slack, and for a moment, James doubted the words he'd just heard. "What?" The man made it obvious that he wouldn't answer useless questions, so he continued, "I mean—all the good intentions, of course."

James scratched the top of his head when all he received was a tight nod and eventually, "She loves you."

The corners of his lips twitched. "I love her, too." Moody sent him a look for interrupting him, and he had half the mind to look embarrassed, his cheeks flushing. "Just wanted to make sure you knew."

"You make it obvious enough by snogging her everywhere," the man growled, his lips curled in distaste. Rolling his eyes, he then said, "Merlin knows what you'd do if the other twin wasn't there to hold you back."

James snorted loudly. "Sirius doesn't _scare_ me."

Moody sent him yet another look, arching a brow that told James of how doubtful he was. "_Sure_," he muttered with a small smirk, "we'll have to see if Voldemort scares you, yeah? He knows your girl is the Chosen One."

"Voldemort can go to hell," he replied calmly, his fists clenched tight at the mere mention of the monster.

"That's right," said Moody with clear approval. "Ain't one to go without a fight, are you?"

"Of course not. I'm James Potter," he insisted cockily, and he wasn't afraid to admit the rush of confidence that swam deep in his blood. Must be a Potter thing, he thought idly.

One day . . . his kids will be just as proud and—

Moody's cane rapped against the floor, startling him out of his thoughts. "Start practicing, instead of daydreaming."

So, instead of having lunch, James spent the rest of his break from classes by duelling Moody and though he wasn't up to the man's level yet, he still managed to earn a satisfied nod at his improvement.

* * *

Hermione was in a dilemma. After Moody had told her to find a way to make sure that the kids at Hogwarts would be protected, she'd put in her all to come up with a solution.

Peter sat with her one evening, the soft murmur of other students in the library droning out when she slammed the books on Portkeys on her table.

He jerked slightly at the loud noise, hissing at her when he noticed Madam Pince's pinched face. Hermione sent both an apologetic look, intent on not being banned from the library when she'd _just_ found the key to her answers.

When she finally settled into her chair with a sigh, Peter eyed the books curiously and gave her a quizzical look. "Why so many books on the topic?"

"I need to find a way," she murmured cryptically, her attention still drawn to the words in front of her. She had already spent the last few weeks or so trying to learn all there was on the magical objects.

Having planned numerous missions with Alessia and Henry, where Portkeys had been necessary to take members back to the Order's safe house—at the moment, Fenwick manor—she had experience with both types of Portkeys.

While the ones they mostly used were triggered immediately by the person's touch, the other kind had the setting to travel to a destination at a specific time.

"You won't be able to predict when the students will need them," Peter commented with a frown, when she relayed the information to him.

She nodded along, setting a _Muffliato_ around them and silently thanking Snape for trusting her enough with the spell. "That's right, Peter. I can't depend on my visions for everything. My _Seer_ powers certainly didn't appear on most of the missions."

So, she looked more into the first kind, noting with much dismay that she wouldn't be able to help the students with the nauseating feeling that occurred after such a method of travel.

She gnawed on her bottom lip when she caught the laws regarding the creation of Portkeys, it being illegal without the authorization of the Ministry. However, the process of creating one would still be easy once she got permission, what with the spell being rather easy.

_But for every student at Hogwarts?_ asked Granger, doubtful at the idea. _You do realize how many things could go wrong, right?_

Peter seemed to be thinking something along those lines, his eyes darting back to the library's entrance as though he wished Remus could come reason with her.

"I can't go anywhere, anyways," she argued bitterly, crossing her arms with a huff. "So, I _can_ spend all the time I want, dealing with these dead ends." Sirius didn't call her the brightest witch of her age for no reason!

"Well—"

"Go to sleep," she told him, noticing that they were cutting close to the curfew. "I'll handle this with Moody. I'm sure he won't mind me waking him up."

Peter fell back into his seat with a resigned sigh.

.

Moody had surprised her with how quickly he stepped in and out of the Floo network, once she told him she needed authorization from the Ministry.

With the speed he'd entered back into his office, she knew well that despite having retired from his Auror job, people still thought of him as their boss at the department.

"Here you go," he said, handing her a bright, red slip with not a question about what she intended to do. His silence spoke volumes about how much he trusted her, and her confidence grew at the presence of her mentor.

She nodded gratefully, slipping back into the Invisibility Cloak she'd _borrowed_ from James, ducking her head awkwardly when Moody chuckled at her hidden form.

"Well, damn that magical eye," she muttered under her breath.

"I can hear you, you know."

Hermione rushed to the door, not looking back as she whisper-yelled, "Goodnight!"

.

Back into the library, Hermione tried to figure out the answers to all the questions that had halted the beginning of her project.

She knew that she couldn't trust _all_ the students to use the one-way Portkeys only when it was absolutely _necessary_, not to mention how the Death Eaters could easily find out about them and use the knowledge to their advantage.

She needed to look deeper, and she _did_. Just because only two kinds of Portkeys had been made so far did not necessarily mean that another one couldn't be made, and that was what she focused on for the next hour.

Eventually, she ended up with a well thought out magical theory that if she were to ward the Portkeys to only be activated at _her_ will, the problem of students using it irresponsibly would no longer arise.

Granger mentioned her approval, but she was quick to ask how on earth Hermione would manage to make sure every student possessed the Portkey without their knowledge.

_That_ had Hermione spending the night on the carpeted floor in the back row of the library, flipping through several books regarding the magic at Hogwarts. She'd grasped onto the idea of how the uniforms required to wear at Hogwarts were different than regular ones.

The magic of the castle was woven into the fabric and their mere presence, and as soon as she remembered that Hogwarts was sentient, she realized that she could use its magic to her advantage - do something _similar!_

So, she sketched up a rough idea of a small Portkey in the form of a bracelet, which could be magically added to every student's wrist without their knowledge, all due to the Notice-Me-Not Charm.

_Hmm, quite complex magic_, Granger commented, but Hermione could hear the hint of approval in her tone.

She then leaned against the shelf behind her, urging out a tired sigh. She will still have to get Dumbledore's help, as he was the Headmaster and the magic of the castle would mostly listen to him.

Hermione nodded to herself, relaxing her tight muscles as she stood up. Her hand flew to her flyaway curls and her nose scrunched up as she wondered if she should perhaps take a small nap before visiting him.

_It is past midnight_, Granger told her. _You could get in trouble._

Hermione Black was a Marauder, however, and the thought of getting in trouble only really fazed her when she was under the scrutinizing state of Professor McGonagall.

She nodded to herself, making way to the Headmaster's office under the Cloak.

.

"This is a brilliant idea, Hermione." The Headmaster looked so impressed with the plan put onto the parchment that she preened in her seat, clearing her throat before she could burst into tears at finally - _finally_ getting it all right.

"I need to make sure that you'll agree with working with the castle's magic," she told him, receiving an immediate nod from the wizard that was still wearing eccentric sleepwear; a flowered bonnet on his head and rather . . . _interesting_ socks.

"Of course, Hermione." He quickly led her down the staircase, seeming to be stifling a small smile. "However, I ask if you have noticed the time? You see, I rather enjoy my sleep."

Hermione's face flushed, an awkward shade of red on her face as she stammered out an apology, "I'm so sorry, Professor! I'll be seeing you again when I finish making the Portkeys—"

"Do use the Great Wand for that," he suggested calmly, a serene smile on his face as though she hadn't taken the enchanted wand away from him.

"Right, of course."

* * *

Hermione waited to add the Portkey spell to the very first bracelet she'd transfigured. Instead, she decided to use the Doubling Charm to her advantage first, as she wouldn't be able to duplicate the Portkey element of it.

Thanks to the Marauders _and_ Regulus, willing to gather in the Room of Requirement late at night numerous times, they had all managed to make just enough, according to the record book she'd borrowed from the Headmaster.

Now, it was time for the _real_ work.

Remus peered at her curiously, still sitting on the couch with Regulus's head on his shoulder, the Slytherin fast asleep.

Hermione sent her younger brother a soft smile before glancing back at her best friend. "Why don't you sleep, as well?"

He gave her a look. "I want to learn about how you make this complicated magic work."

She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes sweeping around the boys that were still awake, looking at her just as curiously.

Sighing heavily, she pulled the Elder Wand from her beaded purse and when no questions were addressed her way, she relaxed slightly. She could feel ardent, fierce magic pulse through as though it was her blood—like it had always _belonged_ there in her body.

She took a deep breath to steady herself at the rush of power, and she looked down at the pile of bracelets.

"Come on, Cub," Sirius encouraged her quietly, sending her a reassuring look when she glanced up.

Hermione nodded, her steady hand aiming the wand and adding the enchantments she'd so adamantly looked for and finally found. She'd perfected the wand movements earlier that day, but now, the Elder Wand moved along with her hand as though it already knew of her intentions well enough.

Feeling much more settled, it took only more than ten minutes to be done and she looked up just in time to catch Remus nodding off with his head against Regulus's.

James and Sirius sent them both a roll of their eyes as they stood up and joined her by the pile of Portkeys. "You did it," James murmured against her ear as he brought her into a back hug.

Sirius grinned wickedly. "I have the most brilliant twin sister in the entire world."

* * *

Hermione cleared her throat, gathering back the attention from all the PA members. They had just finished an important lesson on defensive spells and how in all honesty, any small, comical spell could also end up being helpful against the enemy.

"Last night, the Headmaster called for the castle's magic, to bring a certain bracelet around your wrist," she said, tapping her finger against her wrist, even though she hadn't made one for herself for obvious reasons. The students looked surprised, looking at one another's hand and finally noticing the Notice-Me-Not Charm.

"I'm telling you this because I trust you and well, you'd be _cursed_ if you were to tell anyone about this," they chuckled rather nervously at that, and Sirius frightened them further by nodding vigorously at her words, "nonetheless, I'll be explaining why I felt these were necessary for your safety."

She jumped on the edge of the teacher's large table, crossing her ankles in front of one another. "Surely, most of you know my role in this war by now," she said, confirming the lingering suspicion anyone had regarding the matter. Regardless, shocked gasps echoed around the room, and a pin drop silence followed.

"You're the Chosen One?" a Ravenclaw from her year asked, and Hermione nodded, her eye twitching at the name. She despised it so much, even more when it acted as the reminder of _Harry Potter's_ life.

"Yes," she whispered, and she saw Marlene's shaken steps towards Sirius, falling into a tight embrace as they both looked at Hermione. She sighed and nodded. "And I honestly _don't_ know why, but I am and I can't change that. However, what I _did_ do was manage to find a way to take students to safety."

"From what?"

"The battle with Voldemort that could happen here."

She heard a loud protest coming from the back. "Hogwarts is the safest place there is!"

Hermione shook her head, a grave look on her face. "That is not true, but I hope you're never proven wrong. Still, I wanted to be prepared and these bracelets are a personal kind of Portkeys that I made. They will take you to a safe house as soon as they're activated with _my_ permission."

They all seemed to truly understand how serious the situation was, and they didn't interrupt when she went on to say, "There's many of you who will decide that they want to fight the battle, no matter what."

Her eyes strayed to where the Marauders and Regulus stood, and her hands trembled slightly because she _knew_ that they were those people. She could do nothing to change that, unless she wanted them to hate her for the rest of her life.

However long it will be.

Granger inhaled sharply, but before the woman could go on another rant about how Hermione _was_ going to survive, she saved Granger's breath.

"You can take it off, if you want," she said evenly, pursing her lips to show how much she advised them not to do so. "You are just children in this looming war, so I recommend you not to. And don't you _dare_ tell anyone else about this, as you'll be dealt with and you'll regret it _forever_."

"Imagine a second year Gryffindor comes to hear about this and takes his Portkey off, thinking he can handle fighting a Death Eater." Several people paled at the mere thought, and she nodded fiercely. "Don't fool yourself into bravery, either. If you want to leave, you _will_ leave the castle, because your life is worth more than anything. It's what I'm fighting for!"

.

Later when the meeting had ended, Marlene jumped into her arms, her friend's tears soaking through her robes as she clutched onto Hermione. "Don't you dare leave me, Herms."

Her lips quivered, the hollow ache in her stomach growing, but this was war and she needed to get used to lies and false hope. "I'll try not to, Marls," she said weakly.

* * *

"Correct me if I'm wrong but—"

Hermione rolled her eyes at her boyfriend. "You're wrong."

Somewhere from his bed, Remus snorted loudly, but James pointedly ignored him and chose to focus on her with a petulant glare. "You're _hot_."

"Why, thank you—"

"Meaning your temperature is too high and you're trembling because of a _fever_."

Hermione huffed out a tired breath. She crossed her arms over her chest and continued to stare at him, her brows knitted together. "I'm not!"

"You are, Hermione. You need to rest—"

Remus cleared his throat. "I don't think she knows what rest _means—_"

"Shut it, Moony!" her and James snapped simultaneously, and the werewolf's hands rose in surrender as he not-so-subtly slipped out of the room, an amused smile blooming on his face.

_Harsh_, Granger said, but Hermione knew that the boy wasn't really upset. There wasn't a Marauder that wasn't too dramatic.

Granger sounded amused as she said, _Which means you, too—?_

She ignored her and glanced back at James. "I'm fine. I don't need any rest," she argued firmly, even as she could feel her eyes droop and goosebumps erupt from her arms. _Shit_. "I'm not weak," she still added because — well, she _wasn't_ weak!

James frowned deeply, his head tilted at her as he cupped her face. He scooched forward on her bed and expelled a soft sigh. "You're not weak," he insisted quietly, his brows furrowed, "but it's okay to let yourself be taken care of for once."

She dropped her gaze to his wrist as she pulled his hands away from her face, and she intertwined her fingers with his. "Yeah?" she questioned hesitantly, her eyes boring into swirls of green-brown. Eventually, she gave him a reluctant nod, and the slow grin that grew on his face was worth it—worth _everything_ in the entire world.

Godric, she loved him.

Her eyes prickled at the immense love her heart pumped with, and as he helped her lay down and tucked her in with a warm blanket, she could _feel_ her tight muscles loosen, her blood circulate all over her body, her heart beat for _him_.

"Talk to me," she requested sleepily, and he immediately began to run his fingers through her curls, smiling down at her with the brightest gaze she'd ever seen.

He hummed thoughtfully, and his tongue poked at his cheek, looking rather snog worthy. The corners of his lips twitched as though he could tell what she was thinking about. "Remember that one Muggle story, where the princess feels better after a kiss from her love?"

She nodded. "Of course, I do."

He huffed out a laugh, chuckling lowly as his thumb swiped over her cheek. "Well . . . d'you think _my_ kiss could make you feel better?"

She arched a brow. "Are you my love?" she asked skeptically, restraining her amusement at the way he gawked at her, caught off guard.

"Of course!" he exclaimed indignantly, puffing out his chest at the sheer pride of being the love of her life. "So, what do you say?"

"I'm game if you're game," she murmured softly, a loving smile growing at her lips as he leaned down, and her lips grazed against the side of his neck.

His throat clicked loudly, and he seemed to be composing himself, his hold over her cheekbones tightening. "If you didn't need rest so much, you have no idea how much I'd enjoy making you _moan_ my name, while you're under me—"

Her breath hitched, and he captured her lips with his mouth, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth and biting down gently as they began to move in tandem, like a soft caress of love in the wind.

Hermione surely didn't feel sick, but she _did_ end up sleeping in James's arms, and the boy was happy to later hear of how much his kiss had helped her.

Godric, she loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I just got back from a dentist appointment, my teeth hurt terribly due to the tightened braces, but hey - here's a new update! I really hope you enjoyed the chapter and the concept of the Portkeys. I was a bit hesitant initially, when I was figuring out the whole theory, but I liked the ending product! I would love to hear about what you have to say about it, or the story in general.
> 
> Also, if you haven't noticed, I just finished editing all 64 chapters, and I'm much more comfortable now that there's no typos in this story . . . or so I hope, anyways, lol.


	66. Changes

**October, 1976.**

"You look so fine."

Hermione didn't know why those words affected her so much when James was the one to say them. He had such a beautiful voice; the way it was deep, but still felt so soft spoken - _sweet_, as though it was a blanket of safety and warmth and adoration for _her_.

Her stomach automatically flip-flopped at the rush of butterflies that flew in, and she thought she might burst at the thought of how much she loved him.

"Merlin, James," she struggled to whisper, what with the wide smile at her lips. He seemed amused and quite proud of himself, sending her a half, cocky smile that sent heat pooling into her lower abdomen.

"What? I'm not lying. My name on you makes me so h—"

"Do you two realize we can all hear you?" Remus asked with a loud groan, his green eyes begging them to stop before Sirius could go on a rant as to why James should've been a patient man.

Hermione snickered, her fingers playing with the soft, unruly curls that fell on James's forehead. His eyes were still fixed on his Quidditch jersey that she was wearing.

Having woken up from a nightmare early in the morning, the boys had all ended up waking up as well, and ignoring her apologies for being such a bother, they'd assembled around her bed - James directly gathering her in his arms.

This time though, Hermione was _not_ sick. Not that it would change anything—James was too kind for his own good, and he'd proven it when he'd ended up getting sick, as well.

_Match made in heaven_, Granger commented, laughing softly, and Hermione was glad that the woman had accepted them as a couple, _and_ the fact that this dimension was simply _different_.

Sirius cleared his throat, his eyes narrowed sharply at James. "He's not even trying to hide it anymore!" he complained loudly, even more bummed out when James's eyes didn't stray from her.

Hermione craned her neck to send her brother a grin. "It seems I've stolen your best mate."

Sirius huffed, slinging his arms around Remus and Peter and bringing them closer to his chest. "I've got _two_ best mates, then!"

"They surely like me more!"

"No. Me!"

She glowered at her twin. "_Me!_"

"We actually don't like either of you," Remus commented, glancing at Peter, who nodded vigorously. The werewolf feigned a loud sigh, eyeing the twins as though he was _forced_ to be in their presence. "Reg just blackmailed me to keep an eye on you both. I'm being paid Honeydukes chocolate for it."

Hermione gasped loudly. "That was my job!"

Sirius looked thoughtful. "Ever wondered why it's called _black_-mail?"

"Your family _is_ a bit evil," Peter told him with a grimace, his lips curling probably at the thought of Bellatrix.

James snorted in her ear, sitting up on his elbow to glance at Peter. "I'd say more than just a bit."

"Good thing Hermione and I came out sane," said Sirius with a bright smile, pausing briefly before adding, "among other people."

"Moody would disagree with you adding your name," she pointed out, blinking a couple of times when she felt a lash irritate her eye. She brought her hand into a fist and tried to rub it away, but it didn't work.

She turned towards James, even as Sirius went on to grumpily reply, "I don't think Moody agrees with much of _anything_ I say."

"I wonder why," Remus threw back sarcastically.

"You sound more and more like Reggie, you know," Sirius pointed out with a chuckle, and an _'ow' _sounded around the room, probably after he failed to duck for a smack on the head from Remus.

James held her lid back with his thumb, softly blowing the lash away from her eye and soothing the irritation.

"You guys are disgusting."

Hermione bit down a silly smile. "Sod off, Peter."

* * *

Hermione looked down in surprise, a furrow upon her brows when she felt something brush against her thighs. Her breath hitched when she caught the glimmer of the Invisibility Cloak, her eyes darting back to the Ancient Runes teacher, Heather Powie.

The woman was sitting at her teacher's desk, and she seemed to be checking the time as lunch was just in a few minutes.

On the other hand, Hermione was in the very back, no other student around her, so she swallowed thickly and glared at the invisible form of James. "What are you doing?" she whispered lowly.

Slowly, his head peeked out of the Cloak, and he sent her a sheepish smile, ruffling his wild hair. "_I missed you_," he mouthed, and she rolled her eyes.

She had _just_ seen him in DADA—granted that Sirius had remained by her side, pointedly denying James's offer to sit by her side.

James waved a hand close to her face, breaking through her thoughts. He leaned in, just barely grasping onto the Cloak over his head as his face inches closer to her.

A wisp of a breath escaped her when she found their lips only scant inches apart. Her eyes darted to his soft lips, then up to his darkened gaze

Her surroundings seemed to disappear entirely, and she couldn't help the soft flutter of her lashes at his movements, already expecting a quick kiss, but the _wanker_ that he was, he immediately moved back with a small smirk.

Ignoring the narrow of her eyes, he pushed her chair back just slightly, careful not to alert anyone of the addition in the room. Her eyes began to widen as he knelt on the floor and the pad of his finger trailed up her leg, slowly, _painfully_ slow. He halted right over the fabric of her skirt, where her tattoo was supposed to be.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip—they shouldn't be doing this in _class_, Merlin, they were not alone, but - but the darkened infusion of his eyes created such a hot pool of want in her core that she immediately reacted to his touch, allowing him to part her legs gently - still keeping eye contact.

Like always, he took his time to press soft, fluttering kisses along her skin, sucking on the spots he knew made her crumple under his touch, and she fisted her hands together as to control her reactions.

Her breathing grew rapidly, and she barely heard her teacher ask if she was going to stay in class—when had the bell even _rang?_—and Hermione faintly nodded, muttering, "I—I'm just about to pack up my stuff, yes."

Professor Powie smiled gently, completely obvious to what was happening. She walked over to the doorway and said, "Of course, dear. See you in the Great Hall, if you're having lunch."

She nodded eagerly—more for James to keep trailing his hot tongue and soothe the spot that he had continuously nipped at, but _still_. "Thank you, Professor," and then, she was gone.

Immediately, her gaze snapped down. "James," she hissed, pausing briefly for her eyes to roll back as his hand began to leisurely rub over her panties, lower and down and around the center of the fabric. Her mouth clamped shut as the desperate need to sink further into his hand grew.

He rose to give a gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth and with his maddening deep, rough voice so close to her, he said, "Think of it as a little present, princess."

His eyes darkened, and with a part of his lips and a lock of hair that fluttered along his movements, he brought her flush to his body, moulding her warmth to his as he pulled the Cloak over them.

With every step they took, her breathing grew even more frantic, his wandering hands not helping as James lead her outside the classroom, up the stairs, and finally he pulled her inside—

"Really? A _broom closet?_" she asked breathlessly, narrowing her eyes as soon as James cast _Lumos_ and flung one arm out, his hand slamming against the wall beside her head.

She helped him take off his robes, revealing the lean, tanned lines of his bare chest and stomach, and a few moments passed where she just _stared_.

"It's like a rite of passage, really," he said casually, allowing her to untie his trousers as he continued to look at her through his thick, dark eyelashes, and an incredibly innocent, if not also seductive, pout.

A warm gust of air left Hermione as her eyes trained down the bulge through his boxers, and with a soft laugh, James pulled her around her waist, closing the distance between them as he kissed her with a palpable desperation.

He pulled her uniform shirt and bra off with such a speed that she didn't notice until her hardened nipples pressed against his bare chest and his hands wandered down her back like the wave of shuddering, simmering heat.

His fingers then dug into her waist when hers found the roots of his hair, and he bucked his hips forward, finding just the right friction over the fabric that still covered them.

He crushed his lips to hers, swallowed her little gasps as his hand found its way to the waistband of both of her skirt and panties, pulling them down and slowly beginning to rub circular motions over her throbbing center.

Moving to nip her jaw, he murmured, "Say my name, Hermione. I've put the Silencing Spell and the Contraception Charm. _Scream my name—_"

She arched her back as three of his fingers curled up against her pulsing walls. "_James_."

James grinned cheekily and squeezed her breast, rolling a nipple between his fingers. She let her head rest on his shoulder, almost losing her footing as her skin flushed in anticipation and his movements began to quicken and quicken until she cried out his name repeatedly, biting down the skin of his shoulder until her lips formed around a silent _'o'_.

James pulled her back and caught her mouth with a searing kiss, his tongue tracing her bottom lip before he plunged it inside, hungry and burning as he pinned her to the wall behind her.

She pressed her hips to his. "Okay, _now_ I can see why you chose such a small and tight space for this."

She could feel a wide smile seep through his lips, and he roughly said, "_Smart girl_." He immediately pulled his own boxers down, tightly wrapping his arm around her waist and helping her wrap her legs around his hips.

She mewled desperately when she felt his erected, thick shaft rub against her slick form, and she tensed up until it buried inside her. James's face contorted in pleasure and she purposely clenched her walls around him. He began to buck violently against her, ramming against her flesh.

"You feel so good," he hissed with a hot tickle against her skin, spreading a series of kisses along the column of her neck. When she gripped his shoulders tightly and brought her body up and down his length, he thrust inside her with even more speed.

His moans vibrated around the skin of her breast as he pulled it into his mouth, and she curled around him desperately, her body jolting up every time he plunged hard. "Just like that—_yes, James—_"

With their gasps and moans mingled with the sound of slapping flesh, her toes curled and a wave of heat crushed upon her body until she was left writhing and throbbing, colours flashing over her eyes until her head fell back with a cry.

In just a few moments, where she had yet to even recover from her high, James spilled inside of her with a hoarse call of her name, hot, slick liquid spilling down to her legs.

He brought her legs down to the ground, and pulled her into a tight embrace, clutching onto her body as she expelled a soft, content sigh.

"Think I can avoid Padfoot and return to safety?"

She scrunched her nose. "Please, don't talk about my _brother_ right now."

He pulled away slightly and arched a challenging brow. "Round two, then?"

* * *

**November, 1976.**

Luckily for Hermione, she _had_ to attend a certain Order meeting that was called after Lucius's hurried message.

He had told her of how Dolohov was going to be assigned something special tonight by his Dark Lord, and Hermione had immediately realized what it was. When she'd asked if Lucius had any idea where the Dark wizard would probably take it, she'd found out how Voldemort had asked Dolohov to prepare for a trip to _Gringotts_.

Gideon was the first one to speak up after her brief summary of the situation. "So, how do we ambush him?"

Hermione looked back to where Alessia stood, her hair hung in a low ponytail and tray of tea in her hands. The woman nodded at her, and she turned back towards the Prewetts, Benjy, Edgar Bones, and Dorcas Meadowes.

_Her team_, Hermione thought with pride, before she went to explain her plan. "As many of you know, Bones here is a Memory-Training Specialist."

They all nodded, having heard many stories from the man regarding his extensive research when he'd visited the States. "It's really important that he's there when you stop him." Her knees dug into the edge of the small coffee table, and she pointed at the map of Diagon Alley, her finger moving towards the entrance to Gringotts.

"This is where he'll be apparating, directly in front of the entrance. You'll immediately surround him and get the Dark object away from him. Once one of you has it with you, you'll make sure to Obliviate the man and instill the fake memory of him having gone into Gringotts and done the task he was assigned."

Fabian let out an approving sound from the back of his throat, and he glanced at the man in question. "Edgar, can you do it?"

The blond man nodded, scratching along his rough beard as he met Hermione's gaze. "It won't be too hard if we Stupefy him first."

She agreed, adding that into the plan and looking up to see if anyone had any other suggestions. When they all seemed pleased with it and no objections came, she leaned back in the seat and sighed heavily. "I wish I could come, too."

Hermione was caught off guard with the sympathetic look _Dorcas_ sent her way. "We're sorry, you know. But it's for your safety and . . ."

"I know," she relented, frowning slightly. "It's for _everyone_."

Benjy clapped his hands, his cheery grin faltering when every head snapped to look at him. "What? Was that too loud?"

Hermione shook her head in amusement. "Never change, Benjy. Never change."

* * *

The ball in her only welled and grew more as the day went on, her classes feeling longer than usual. The jitters about the mission left Hermione unsettled, but not exactly surprised.

She'd often only ever been able to relax when adrenaline kicked it at the start of fighting, but sitting back this time while others went on the mission worsened everything.

How she managed to fall asleep, she didn't know, but the moment the door slammed open and Moody came into their dorm in the middle of the night, she knew something was wrong.

She didn't have it in her to look at him in the face, as he woke her up and the tightness in her chest only grew more rigid at the urgency in his voice.

She was up at an instant, preparing for battle even before he even said, "Dolohov came with too many of those bastards, and we don't have enough of our people ready at the moment."

It took her a second to remember how to push a voice out, still intent of rushing to the doorway where Moody now stood. "Let's hurry the fuck up, then."

.

Her body was thrumming with trepidation the entire way there, and while she couldn't feel her heart, she could feel the brutal ache from the force with which it pounded at the sight that greeted her.

Her wand flew to the left frantically, to hold the masked Death Eater off before he could lurch at Gideon, and she screamed, "_Furnunculus!_"

The man cried out in pain at the boils that erupted all over his body and she shot a Binding Spell his way just in time to restrain him. She hurried by Gideon's side, acid burning the back of her throat when she caught the blood that gushed out of his leg.

"_Fuck—_" Hermione was trying hard to push back the panic seizing her, and she rasped out a frantic, "_Ferula_," leading him away from the Death Eaters before they could see him.

Miraculously, the spell worked well enough for the splint to assist him in using his leg for some time, and he insisted he was fine. "I need to find Fabian," he asserted, and Hermione was already moving, trying to fight off the spells shot her way.

She was disoriented, still trying to make sure everyone was alive, but she managed to hit two attackers anyways, leaving them fallen for Moody to take care of.

When she did find Fabian though, she gasped so loud that it stung her lungs and it got Dolohov's attention off him, finally having noticed her at the scene.

"_Krasotka_, you naughty—"

Fabian growled, his bloodied arm still limp against his body. "Don't you dare talk to her—"

Hermione managed a _Stupefy_ before Dolohov could look at her once again and finish what he'd been saying. She watched as he fell, trying to look away from the man that had haunted her nightmares for months.

She breathed deep, her throat burning and raw when she barely managed to finish the gasp for breath. It was then that a Death Eater sent a Cutting Spell at her back, feeling the sharp, throbbing pain before she could even whirl around.

Hermione clenched her teeth, stumbling back a step before she could right herself. She barely managed to steady herself as a _Crucio_ started to form at the tip of his tongue.

She sent a silent Langlock Spell, taking the time to breathe out harshly as the man continued to prove that the binding of his tongue to the roof of his mouth had worked.

"_Expelliarmus!_" she called, his wand flying to her hand and her splintering it into two pieces as his eyes widened. "_Locomotor Mortis!_" she screamed, impeding his movement as she rushed back into the battle.

"Dorcas!" someone shouted, and her wide gaze snapped around, trying to locate her amongst the frantic spells that flew over her head.

"_No!_" She could feel pain shoot up along her bones when she jumped in front of Dorcas, hands on her injured shoulders before she pushed her down from the beam of yellow light.

She fell to the ground just in time, her body then throwing itself up violently when the Death Eater stopped just a few feet away. "It's the _Chosen One—_" he murmured with a loud gasp, and _why the fuck did Death Eaters talk so much?_

"_Stupefy!_" She moved to bind him further with bindings, looking back to see how every Death Eater had now been pulled into unconsciousness, so that Edgar could work his memory spells on all of them.

"This changes things," she muttered, the heel of her palm whacked against her temple. She didn't dare to allow her breath to stutter in, her shaken gaze sweeping past the bodies of around _ten_ Death Eaters on the ground, and her unit members steadying their breath.

_Pause._

Turning around frantically, her heart burst up to her throat, and her wild eyes found Moody. "Where's _Benjy?_"

.

All of the members were taken to St. Mungo's after having suffered multiple injuries—Benjy being the one with the most serious and _dangerous_ ones.

Hermione still hadn't gotten the chance to see her friend, and a sob was forming along the walls of her throat, threatening to rip itself out when Moody found her sitting outside of the patient's room.

His unwavering gaze landed on her, and she didn't dare to breathe.

"Benjy?" she prompted quietly, the single name proving to weigh more than the ball in her chest that had been growing all day.

Her heart hammered when she received a simple, "We don't know yet."

She fell back into the metallic chair of the hospital, and it felt as though someone was personally twisting at the confines of her heart, grasping onto it painfully with claw marks the more she waited.

Something in her cracked and exploded as she breathed out, and she _sobbed_ loudly because she felt _dirty_ for doing something like breathing, while her friend was in there—alive or - or—

"It's my fault," tore out of her painfully, hard and desperate with grief that she couldn't yet justify because there was still that _hope_ that told her he was _just_ _fine_.

Moody shook his head, his hands on her shoulders to ground her back to reality. "Let's get you back to Hogwarts."

* * *

Hermione missed all of her classes the next day, restlessly pacing along the confines of her dorm. The boys had insisted that she needed to eat, but when she'd refused to even sit at the Great Hall, they had to personally take the food up to their room and remind her to take care of herself.

All she could see in her mind when she closed her eyes was _Benjy, Benjy, Benjy,_ and not even the thought of the cup now being in Dumbledore's office sparked victory in her body.

"You're bleeding," James whispered urgently somewhere from behind, having come back from his last class and already pulling her shirt over her shoulders so that he could take a look. He inhaled sharply. "Hermione, your _back_—"

"_Oh_," she muttered, feeling a breath too tired at just one word. "I must've forgotten."

James remained quiet for the next minutes or so, trying to heal her the best, painless way he could, and when he turned her back around, the muscle at the side of his jaw was locked tight.

"Hermione."

She shook her head, feeling herself edge to hysteria, eyes blind with tears as she grasped onto the front of his uniform stiffly. "_Help me._"

He didn't wait a second bringing her into a tight hug, squeezing her tight as though he wished she could always stick by his side. Her eyes focused on her surroundings - on Remus's bed, all neat and made; a stark contrast to the other boys' messy beds.

Her eyes drooped slightly, her mind suddenly feeling heavy as she leaned all the way onto James's body. She was sure that she could sleep now, but the strong burn on her wrist startled her.

Hermione jumped out of the embrace and dropped her eyes to the Galleon.

_I'm fine, you guys :) — B. F._

James peered down, his cheek brushing against her own. "How did he even manage to make that . . . _smile_ through the coin?"

Hermione laughed, choking and trembling at the string of reminders that her mind immediately set free—_he's fine, fine, fine._

* * *

"Apparently, all the Death Eaters think they made it in and out of Gringotts with no problem." Hermione glared down at her lap and reluctantly added, "Since, they were _healed_ of their injuries and freed."

She huffed out a harsh breath at the unfairness of their situation, but she knew that she had to keep going, for the bigger, _last_ picture. "Voldemort is under the belief that the cup is in Dolohov's vault."

"The snake is left then," Dumbledore remarked, peering at her with his new, thinly rimmed glasses. She'd complimented them earlier, and he had been all too pleased at that, shooting Phineas's portrait an amused smile - as though they'd made a bet on it.

Hermione nodded slowly. "Nagini, yes. How will we kill _her?_"

The Headmaster stroked along his wiry, white beard, and he looked at her, seemingly contemplating something. "He takes her everywhere he goes now."

Realization dawned on her, and she swallowed thickly. "So, when he comes for me, we strike them _both_."

Hermione could feel it then, the looming taste of victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever wondered if victory always tastes sweet? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this new chapter! Nagini is left as a Horcrux and this one will obviously be the hardest the destroy . . . hmm. I would love to hear what you have to say! It's always so, so heartwarming to receive such a warm reaction to new updates. I also noticed that I never replied to some of the earlier comments to this story, so how awkward do you think it'd be, if I reply to them nine months later? :( I feel bad.
> 
> Also, Umbrella Academy season 2 came out today, and I still have to start watching it because I've been adulting all day, aaa.


	67. Honey and Mischief

**December, 1976.**

"Today is the worst day ever."

James glanced at Hermione, offering her a treacle tart that he'd saved for last during breakfast. She shook her head, amusement falling short when she remembered that today was indeed, the worst day ever.

Granger seemed doubtful. _The fact that you have to remember . . ._

"As opposed to a few weeks ago when someone slit your back and you almost got killed?" Remus asked by her side, looking up from his cup of tea with a weary expression.

"That was last week," she replied evenly, her eye twitching. "Today, I am running out of Sugar Quills, still not allowed to go to Hogsmeade, and I was refused to go back to Potter manor for break."

The latter especially surprised her, as she'd assumed that Dumbledore would be the first person to insist that she went home. However, she also agreed as to why it would be a danger to all other kids travelling by the Hogwarts Express.

"Sugar Quills? It must be the end of the world," commented Sirius unhelpfully, with his half-bored, half-sleepy tone.

Hermione huffed, crossing her arms and glancing over towards Snape as he left with Lily by his side. "The fact that even _they_ get to enjoy a date . . ." she trailed off, looking at James with a pointed brow.

Her boyfriend looked nervous under her stare. "What?"

"Nothing," she replied casually, looking over her nails with a small, pursed pout. Her gaze swept over to the Head Table and she made sure Moody noticed the narrow of her eyes. He muttered something under his breath, and she looked away sharply.

"I can remember now that she's Sirius's twin," Peter whispered, as if she wasn't within the hearing range.

She rolled her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're both very stubborn?" Marlene offered, pushing Sirius's head up when it went to fall on the table.

Hermione frowned, slightly hurt by the statement. "Forgive me, guys, if I want to worry about something . . . _normal_, for once." The pressure that had been building up as Christmas approached grew, and she stood up, walking away from the table with a sigh and a tight ache in her chest.

Soon enough, she'd reached the tree by the Black Lake, plopping down on the ground with half the mind to just nap under the rustling tree's presence, but she doubted that would be possible when she heard the steps approaching her.

"Hello."

She caught the sight of well put, gelled black hair, and she relaxed greatly, sending her little brother a weak smile. "Should you be here?"

"All _those_ Slytherins are at Hogsmeade."

"Right." Her gaze remained trained on the large body of water in front of them, well aware that it was going to freeze soon enough. "Did you ever manage to see the Squid?"

"Of course," he said with a small laugh. "It is often seen through the Dungeon's windows."

"Lucky," she murmured, glancing back at him to send him an exasperated smile as she continued, "the boys wanted to drag it out to the Great Hall in our first year. Remus and I had to stop and try to reason with them."

"They're very stupid," he commented, though there was no malice and only a clear spark of amusement in his grey eyes. "Except you and Remus, of course."

"Thank you _so_ much." Hermione laughed, shaking her head slowly. "You'll find that they can be very smart when they want to."

"Must never want to, then," he muttered under his breath, but she heard him regardless, giving him a smack on his arm.

"Be nice!"

"I'm a Slytherin," he deadpanned, looking the perfect bit of a Pureblood right then, until she stared at him flatly and his resolve broke with a snort. "Do you really want to go to Hogsmeade that badly?"

Hermione shrugged, dropping her eyes to the grass she'd begun picking between her fingers. "I just want a moment of rebellion before . . ."

"You can feel it, too?" he asked quietly, and she nodded hesitantly.

"It's happening soon." She shook her head, adamant not to think about it today, and instead enjoying one day of normalcy. "I want Sugar Quills."

"You — okay . . . _okay_, I'll get you Sugar Quills," he murmured in defeat, sneaking her an embarrassed look when he went on to say, "I have to buy chocolate, too."

She teased him relentlessly then, stopping only when he had to leave before the carriages could forget him behind. James watched him go as he joined her, an awkward scratch of his head when he found her not looking at him once.

"I got you eclairs."

Her head snapped up before she could control herself, and she patted on the spot beside her. "Sit."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said quietly, his chest shaking with silent laughter when she sent him a dirty look. He handed her the sweets wrapped diligently with a tissue, and she couldn't help but grin as she caught the smell of chocolate. She immediately brought an eclair to her mouth.

James chuckled. "Am I dating Moony?"

"There would be a lot more biting on the shoulder, if that was the case," she told him with a slow smirk, finding his gaze sweeping over her face.

He huffed out a laugh, leaning close enough that she could feel his warm breath fan over her face. "Your nails are pretty sharp, too. I _love_ it," he whispered, pecking her on the lips before moving away. "Remember when you rejected me after our first kiss? _Right_ here?"

Hermione hummed thoughtfully, her mind wandering back to the rainy day where her heart had fluttered and shattered all the same. "I'm sorry about that."

He shook his head firmly, stretching out his long legs, and he turned his head towards her so that he could place it on her lap. Once she raised her hands and allowed him to get comfortable, she began to play with his soft, wild curls.

"I wasn't entirely sure you would even kiss back," he confessed, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked up at the grey sky above them.

Her thumb swiped against the soft skin of his cheekbone as she ate the last eclair. "Well, I did, so you have to deal with it."

His deep, hazel eyes landed back on her, a familiar glint in his eyes that only grew as he asked, "What if we liked each other since first year, but didn't realize it?" She arched a brow, and he continued, "I mean - I was pretty jealous even just when Diggory asked you out."

Her face shifted into a slight grimace, intent on never thinking about that boy ever again. "What about when I suggested that you wanted to be my twin too, and you jumped to make sure you didn't want us to be related?"

A small tinge of pink brushed over his cheeks and he allowed his lips to lift into a small smile. "Yes, well - it _did_ feel wrong even then. Remus looked like he knew something was up . . ."

"Remus knows _everything_ we feel."

He gave her a wicked grin. "I hope he doesn't know what I feel when I see you strip—Ow!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "_Honestly_ . . . want to go to the Room of Requirement?"

She would later tease the speed at which he jumped up, grabbing her hand tight and leading her away from the Giant Squid that had been enjoying watching them without their notice.

* * *

James sat on the edge of the bed they'd asked for, smoothing out the covers under him when he felt Hermione's warm fingers hooking through the waistband of his trousers and boxers

"_Fuck_," he muttered hoarsely, his head falling behind, and he lifted his hips a bit so that she could pull his clothes down to his ankles. Blood shot right down to his cock and he felt a shiver run down his spine at the determined look on her face.

"Holy shit, Hermione_,_" he breathed when she wrapped her cold, slender fingers around his thick length and slowly started moving them up and down.

This wasn't the first time she had teased him, slowing down every time his muscles tensed her touch, and he groaned loudly. "Hermione," he said in a low voice, and he looked down as she squeezed her thighs together, finally starting to move her fingers faster, _a lot faster_.

"You forget we have time," she whispered as she leaned down and opened her mouth, wrapping her tantalising lips around his length. Her tongue swirled over the tip and she licked her way down to his skin.

Her mouth tightened around him, his eyes rolling back when she moved her head down slowly. "_Hermione_," he groaned, and his breathing grew rugged as his hands flew to her mass of soft curls to pull her closer.

His mouth dropped when he felt her drag the skin of his shaft over the little ridge of his tip, and she looked up at him—looking so fucking entrancing with her darkened, rich caramel eyes and soft, wet lips around him.

"You're so good," he grunted, the pool of heat in his stomach growing and he kept his eyes pinned on her as he took in the sounds she was making, ones that vibrated torturously against his thick skin.

Hermione wrapped her hand tighter around the length of him that her skilled mouth couldn't reach, and she started bobbing her head up and down his dick, faster and faster to match the speed of her fingers.

"_Fuck_, I'm so close. Keep going like that—" James moaned, and when she hollowed her cheeks and pulled her tongue around the tip again, swiping at the pre-cum that was leaking, his muscles began to twitch and ecstasy slowly took over his body.

His head kicked back, his fingers loosening in her hair as he groaned loudly and warm liquid shot to the back of her throat. He could feel several strands of his hair stick to his forehead, but once they recovered, Hermione was quick to clean everything up with a silent spell, getting up slowly.

His hazy eyes caught her red cheeks, mouth slightly open, and he couldn't help but move back further onto the mattress and gesture for her to straddle his hips.

Her hardened nipples were caught between his fingers, him rolling and flicking at them as she leaned down to kiss him. James took her bottom lip between his own, and she made a small noise that made his cock twitch again. His fingers began to run up the length of her neck to cradle the back of her head in his palm.

"You're so fucking hot."

She pressed herself into him, stretching out along the length of his body and her fingers curling into his hair. Their kiss turned feverish, passionate, and mind numbing; the tint of desperation tugging them close.

He needed her close. She _needed_ him, and he was all willing to give it all to her as he rubbed her sensitive nub and she mewled against his mouth. She sat up to slowly sink her slick, slippery form over his cock, her perfect walls stretching and tightening around him and urging out a groan from him.

Hermione began to slowly move up and down, the pace quickening as she stared down at him, breathy sounds escaping them both. He squeezes her breast into his hand, feeling it fit perfectly in his hold. "They're really made just for me," he breathed with a smug smirk.

She huffed out a small laugh, her two palms pushed onto his bare chest as she thrust down again. They moved in perfect sync, and he lost himself in the touch of her, completely unaware of the sense of time. The sound of skin slapping skin faded into his ears, and he only focused on the way she moaned his name, looking fucking entrancing with her lips parted and breasts dancing at each thrust.

James watched carefully, making sure to ingrain the picture of her eyes rolling back in pleasure as she cried out, coming slick inside of him and falling on top of him. "_James—_"

Grabbing around her waist, he turned them both around so he could be on top, and he hovered on his elbows, her breath laboured with lust as he proceeded to take his time with her beautiful body; plotting and peppering new routes down her delicate skin, and conquering every inch of her until they were left with lazy limbs and tangled sheets.

* * *

Now somewhat dressed and energized, much to James's delight _only_ when the room provided Hermione with a replica of his Quidditch jersey, they lounged lazily on the bed.

His hand reached up to her thigh, running up and down in a possessive manner that she rather liked. "That's really _my_ name on you," he said with a half-lidded, cocky gaze that always made her breath come a little faster.

Hermione rolled her eyes, lips twitching at the corners in amusement. "Did you forget that we have literal _tattoos_ of each other on us?"

He allowed a nod, but insisted, "People can't really see _that_. _But _if you were to walk around with this jersey, they would know you're mine."

"And how will people know _you_ are mine?"

He gave her a charming smile, carding his hand through his messy hair. "I profess my love for you in the Great Hall everyday."

Hermione opened her mouth, ready to chastise him for attracting so much attention on them every evening, when he tilted his head at her and his brows scrunched curiously.

"You got something on your face," he told her, still an unusual glint in his eyes that should've made her suspicious.

"Bollocks," she muttered, swiping her cheek with the back of her hand. It came away with nothing, and she gave him a perplexed look.

"Oh, it's just an immense amount of _beauty_."

She rolled her eyes, more focused on the rumbling that their stomachs just emitted _simultaneously_.

Granger laughed softly. _Soulmates, indeed._

Their amused gazes locked together, James stood up and approached her side of the bed, looking all too happy to offer her a hand and pull her close to him.

"You could've gone to Hogsmeade, you know," she remarked as he led them towards the Room of Requirement's large doors. "It's not like you _have_ to spend the weekends with me."

James stopped, whirling around to look at her with an indecipherable intensity etched on his face. He stepped closer to cup her face and he shook his head stubbornly. "It _hurts_ to know you don't see how much more I enjoy the time with you."

"_Well_—"

"Could Honeydukes compare to how sweet _you_ taste—"

"That's—"

"Exactly, princess. What I want the most right now," James declared, "is to take my lovely," he pecked her on the left cheek, "beautiful," right cheek, "girlfriend," forehead, "to the kitchens."

* * *

Sirius narrowed his eyes but stayed quiet whatsoever when Hermione and James returned back to the dormitory. She pulled a look of pure innocence, sitting on the foot of his bed with a small smile. "Hello, twin."

"_Hmm_," he said, his eyes still on her boyfriend as he walked towards his own mattress. "Had fun, did you?"

James nodded instantly. "We were lucky to be given _honey_ treats in the kitchens."

She repressed a splutter, caught off guard at his mention of the sweet. "_Yes_," she bit out nervously, sending a quick, annoyed look at James, who pointedly ignored her gaze with a wide grin.

"Right," said her twin slowly, opening his mouth to say something else but smartly stopping. "Help me out with the Transfiguration essay, will you?"

"Sure, show me where you're stuck."

She ended up leaning against the wall with her legs crossed and a long parchment on her lap, her twin eventually handing her a Sugar Quill, though she didn't know when he got the time to go get it.

Granger sighed heavily. _When you and James were busy doing something else_.

It was then that she noticed the absence of a small glimmer around his wrist. "You took it off," she exclaimed, not surprised but still rather anxious at the thought. When she'd first noticed James without it, she'd burst into tears and she didn't want to have the same reaction again.

"All the boys have," Sirius told her, a casual shrug that did not match the true, heavy implications of his words. "I'm pretty sure even Snape has."

"_What?_"

Sirius looked at her then, very cautiously. "We're ready for it, Cub," he reassured her slowly, but Hermione suppressed a small groan either way.

"This is going to go badly."

"It could," Sirius allowed, his eyes focused on a random spot on the floor. "But you won't be alone."

Hermione blew a strand of hair away from her eyes, nibbling on her bottom lip in worry. "I doubt he'll come out if they keep hiding me, as well."

"You still have to kill the snake, don't you?" asked James from his bed, and she nodded, frustration growing at the mere thought of it.

"Malfoy can't just kill it by himself in front of the other Death Eaters, so we might have to do it while battling Voldemort for the last time."

A pensive quiet descended in the room, each person thinking their own thing. Hermione was sure of what she was thinking of, though: making sure that _no one_ will ever sacrifice their life for her again.

* * *

Her breath laboured, Hermione ducked underneath the barrier she'd made, crawling to where the Marauders were kneeling on the ground. "Made more ammunition?" she whispered, sneaking a glance up at the approaching figures.

Sirius nodded, his lips pressed into a grim line. "On my three."

Remus joined her side, his brows knitted together as he glanced at her. "Are you sure, Cub?" he whispered, doubtful when he looked ahead.

Hermione nodded, smacking Sirius's arm to get him to start counting already. "Come on," she hissed, aiming her wand at the pile they'd been working on all afternoon.

"One."

Peter slipped slightly on his elbow, and she sent him a sharp glare. He thought of raising his hands up in surrender, but then seemed to remember that they were hiding. "Sorry."

"Two."

The voices began to sound louder then, and her heart boomed against the tight confines of her chest. She took a deep breath, nodding to herself.

"Three!"

Hermione shot the preparations forward, a victorious smile growing on her lips when she watched the snowballs hit Snape's chest, and Regulus groaned loudly, his head whirling around.

Lily shrieked loudly, her orange beanie falling to the ground when she padded forward and finally caught sight of them. "Sev, get ready!"

Hermione ducked quickly, a gleeful laugh slipping past her lips as she scrambled away from the snowballs that flew her way. She rolled out of the way, but not having seen James doing the same thing in _her_ direction, she hit the hard surface of his chest.

"_Ow!_" she cried, rubbing her gloved hand over her nose. _Damn, muscles!_

James offered her a soft smile that she quickly returned. "Sorry, princess."

She pulled up to her feet, regretting it the moment disorientation took over her sight and she had to shake her head several times. She was quick to form a much bigger ball with her wand, levitating it into the air just as her enemies' eyes widened.

"Hermione, I'm your _brother!_"

"I'm your . . . _friend_, Black."

"I'm a _Prefect_, and I have class in five minutes!"

Rolling her eyes, she yelled loudly, "You shouldn't talk so much in a battle," and she threw the ball at the trio, the Marauders following her close behind to avoid their wrath once they recovered from the attack.

Hermione felt her back hit sheer force and she turned around, her gaze focusing on Moody, all tucked into a large, heavy jacket. He scowled down at her. "What's happening here?"

Sirius snorted. "A battle, can't you see?" he asked loudly, not yet realizing who he was talking to. However, the bright red spots on his cheeks from the cold faded as he paled, and he coughed into the back of his hand. "Afternoon, Sir."

Moody eyed him warily, his magical eye snapping back to where the trio had stopped aiming snowballs at them for obvious reasons. "Aye, McKinnon is plotting your death for dying her hair blue," her mentor informed Sirius, amusement hidden in his tone.

While her admittedly frightened twin went to rush inside the castle, Moody shifted his attention on her. "Hermione, you shouldn't be outside."

Spotting her disheartened look, James seemed like he wanted to complain for her sake, but when Moody sharpened his gaze on him, her boyfriend rolled his eyes rather slowly, and he called for everyone to warm up inside.

Hermione sent him a grateful smile, following everyone close behind to see if her and Remus could get a cup of hot chocolate, even though lunch time had already passed.

She looked back at her boys— yes, that would be nice.

.

"_Moooony_."

Remus rolled his eyes, but otherwise gave her an indulging smile. "Yes, Cub?"

Hermione took the last sip to her hot chocolate, and she proceeded to sprawl out in her seat, slamming her eyes shut softly. "You're good in DADA."

A moment of a silence, and then, "I am."

"You would take care of them, right? If something were to happen to me?"

Remus inhaled sharply. "_Hermione—_"

She shook her head vehemently, her throat clogged with the rush of emotions and her eyes still closed. "If I don't come back from a battle, Remus, I'm _sorry_."

She heard the loud screech of a chair as it was pulled back, and she was immediately hauled into a tight embrace, his heart thudding close to her ear. "Don't you _ever_ say that," he said, his voice breaking.

Hermione swallowed thickly. "I—I have to. I know you know the boys just as well, but as my twin—" her bottom lip began to tremble and hot tears spilled from the corners of her eyes, "but Sirius loves toast after coming back from a game, and he loves going out when it's exceptionally _cloudy_, saying how it's too good of a weather to miss—"

She took a deep, shuddering breath, a sob choking the gasp out of her.

"He hates Mother's Day celebrations because our Mother is a hag, but he's fond of spring because he loves the breeze that comes with it - not too cold, not too hot. He sometimes likes having breakfast foods for dinner, too. He considers it a _reward_ for when he works very hard during the day."

Remus's hold on her tightened, and she reluctantly quieted down. "I'll take care of Sirius, but a time for that won't come because you _will_ survive." He pulled her back to show her his eyes, now shifting between green and amber, and he silently pleaded with her to repeat his words.

"I will survive," she whispered hoarsely, more to herself than anyone else. "We _all_ will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter was certainly a trip, lol. Also, hey, smut two chapters in a row? I _am_ listening to you guys, and I hope you liked it! Kudos and comments are loved and appreciated, if you'd be so kind. The next chapter is . . . yeah, no, I'd rather keep the shock factor, but buckle up. I'm hoping to update soon, but I do rather like taking in all the feedback and making adjustments as we go. Anyways, that's all! I hope you liked it and the story so far.


	68. Expelliarmus

**December, 1976.**

It was with cold, twisted and cruel play of destiny that the entirety of Hogwarts was woken up in the middle of the night, frantic and frightened eyes peeling open at the voice that seemed to be as close as the walls that surrounded them.

Hermione immediately sat up at the cold and clear voice, her gasp resounding around the dorm but fading when _he_ spoke:

"You cannot fight me, and I do not want to kill you. No magical blood shall be spilled tonight, Hogwarts." There was a great rustling of sheets from the boys and faint, frightened screams seeped through the Gryffindor tower. "But teachers, while I greatly respect you, it is not the same with Albus Dumbledore."

Hermione tensed, grabbing her father's robes that were draped just at the foot of the bed. A ball seemed to grow in the back of her throat, and she struggled to put her father's gift on.

"I have sent him away for you. He's far away in the States, not yet allowed to come back as I do not want to fight him."

An eerie, pressing silence erupted within the walls, and for a moment, she was certain this was _it_ and then:

"I am here for Hermione Black. Give me Hermione Black and my men shall not harm you. Give me Hermione Black and you will be left untouched."

"You have until midnight," he said as if his breath was against her ear, pulling her to her impending death, and the darkness swallowed her fear whole once silence greeted the students again.

Slowly, Hermione moved to the side of the bed, blinking into the light that must've been work of one of the boys. Her hands were trembling slightly, and she made an effort to control them, wishing terribly for the darkness to come back and hide the sight of them.

When she lifted her head and swept her gaze over the beds, she found four, similar expressions of deep worry and panic and - and the obvious need to hold her back here.

But war must go on.

She went to slip her foot into her shoe, but Sirius was quicker, kneeling down to the floor as he grabbed it, slipped it inside her boot and tied the laces for her. "You're not going to him."

"Of course not," she lied hoarsely. She _will_ have to go—she needed to face him to put an end to all this, and she wished no one to be around when that happened.

They all huddled around the room, feeling an odd need to embrace each other before leaving the room, having heard Professor McGonagall's voice demanding they all came down.

She inhaled the scent of home, comfort and safety that had always been wrapped tight around her since first year, and she stepped back, quickly pulling James into a soft kiss.

Her lips pressed desperately against his own, but before she knew it, she had to pull away. He seized her hand to make sure she wouldn't get away when they descended to the Common Room and found a surge of students moving towards the Fat Lady's portrait.

Faintly, she could hear a weird, rushing noise as winds unleashed from the grounds beneath them, and they passed several statues and suits of armor coming to life, cluttering and yelling throughout the castle.

They followed the crowd down to the Great Hall, the usual House tables under the enchanted sky no longer there, and as they made their way in front of the huge line of Gryffindors, she allowed her eyes to drift towards the Headmaster's empty spot.

Could she do this without him?

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat to gather everyone's attention, Hermione only now realizing that every eye in the room had found _her_ ever since she'd stepped foot inside.

"Professor Flitwick and I have established basic protection around the castle, but it won't hold for much longer . . . Miss Black, I am aware you had something planned," the Professor said, beckoning for her to join her side.

James reluctantly let go of her hand, and as she walked towards the Head of their House, she could feel several eyes burn holes in the back of her head.

"She's right here. Just hand her over!"

A rush of astonished gasps, and then, Sirius lashed out in loud, icy fury, "Which one of you motherfuckers said that?"

"Black, settle down," Moody barked, shaking his head at her angered twin. "It's a waste of time to fight amongst each other."

Hermione stopped and turned on the spot, finally looking over the large sea of students that stared directly at _her_. She could see it: the tension and fear growing behind their eyes as the second passed by, and she knew they needed to hurry.

Her hand dove for the Elder Wand in her beaded bag, and she tightly clasped her fingers around it, pulling it out as she said, "I have tried my best to prepare for this situation if it were to arise, and I apologize if my presence here will be leading you further onto the road of danger."

She took a deep breath to steady herself.

_You can do it, Hermione,_ the woman in her head encouraged her softly.

"If you are of age, and you _truly_ feel prepared and wish to fight, I am giving you a few seconds to remove the bracelet around your wrists." There was a pause, where shock and determination fitted around the room, and then, "Otherwise, I hope we'll see you again when this is all over."

She'd been murmuring the incantations this whole time and when she finally heard the cracks at their departure, she willed her eyes to open.

By Snape and Regulus's side, there were a bunch of Slytherin seventh years that had chosen to stay. The other Houses were much more filled, with all the members of the PA and many seventh years that she hadn't yet had the chance to meet.

She will have to thank them later.

Hermione nodded at Professor McGonagall, allowing the woman to step forward once more and give instructions to three, large groups of students that were going to guard the Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Astronomy towers with the teachers.

In the meanwhile, she allowed her gaze to fall on Moody, who was looking down at his watch every few seconds. "Did you call the Order yet?"

"_And_ the entirety of the DMLE is coming," he informed her, glancing down at her briefly before he began to lead a group away from the Great Hall. "Open the Floo in my office!"

Hermione nodded immediately, and however much she wanted to find the boys at this instant, she knew that the other fighters' arrival was much more crucial at the moment. She hurried off along the crowd, making a sharp turn to the right and running down to the end of the corridor.

She whispered the password to Moody's office that only _she_ had been provided with, letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding when the door opened.

Hermione ran towards the fireplace and did as she'd been instructed to, instantly pressed back into the wall when a large roar grew in the office; an expanding crowd of the Order of the Phoenix, Aurors, and the families of many students at Hogwarts—_was that Uncle Alphard flirting with an Auror?_

The man craned his neck to look at her, sending her a dramatic salute, just like Sirius might've done, before rushing towards the door like everyone else in the room.

Another Auror stepped forward with a tall, thin man by his side, whose eyes had immediately widened at the sight of her.

"That's Travers," Benjy explained by her side, but she was unable to look away as the stranger proceeded to _bow_ at her and finally follow the Auror out of the room. "He's the Death Eater you saved in the fire. He _swore_ magically that he's going to help our—well, _your_ side."

Her brows rose high in surprise, and her jaw fell open in surprise. "_Oh_."

Many then stopped to gawk at her for a few seconds, whispers of the Prophecy's Chosen One ringing in her ears sharply, and she breathed out, "_Thanks_," when Benjy offered her a tight squeeze on the shoulder.

"It's going to be okay. We'll outnumber them for sure—"

Gideon appeared behind Benjy. "That's right."

"Don't worry, little Black!" shouted Fabian as he dragged his twin and other Order members away and down to the hall.

Dorea and Charlus stayed where they were before the former ran forward and pulled Hermione into a tight hug, half-sobbing words of comfort that were still mingled with fear.

When she pulled away, Hermione sent Charlus a firm nod but before she could open her mouth, Ilana appeared at the doorway, shouting at them to get moving — just in time for the running footsteps and yells of fighting to commence.

It was midnight.

And as Hermione hurried away from Moody's office, she was struck by the very first thought that her mind, clouded with fear and panic, provided her with.

It was Orion Black's _birthday_.

A bloodcurdling scream, and she knew that it will soon be Voldemort's death day, as well.

"In his honour," she whispered, rough ropes shooting from the tip of her wand and binding a cloaked figure that had been aiming his wand at an Auror's back.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" she screamed, trying very hard to run to Dumbledore's office with a clear head, but her thought process was pushing with the buzzing of fruitless words, and her breath was eating her alive, catching in her chest with a tight burn.

She looked around frantically to the side, where Diggle was in a cutting battle with a Death Eater, jets of light scattering off their shields and hitting the walls around them instead. Hermione ran further away to where the portraits had usually been to greet her, on her way to the Headmaster.

"_Diffindo!_"

She could feel a sharp cut along the skin of her ankle, and then she was falling against a warm, soft surface until she looked down, scrambling away from the lifeless eyes with a cry.

She didn't dare to close her eyes when puke rose up to her throat, and there was a flash of yellow that missed her just by an inch as she turned around and cried, "_Protego!_"

Her wand slashed through the air with cold fury. Deep hatred churned in her stomach like acid. She hadn't known the man, but it didn't matter. Not when lives were being lost because of heartless, cruel people like the one in front of her. The Death Eater was thrown off balance, and he fell for a final time at her _Stupefy_.

She sprinted down the hallway when a sudden flash made her skid to a halt and her head snapped to the side, where Regulus was running towards her. There was a red gnash along his forehead, but the earth-quaking tremor that boomed across them drew her focus away from it.

Then, Hermione was running as fast as she could and she grabbed his sleeve, yanking him behind her before he could utter a word, simultaneously hitting the Elder Wand with the strongest _Shield Charm_ she could come up with.

Hot wind slashed her arm, and they were pulled just barely away from heavy debris that exploded under the pressure of cold air, and they flew backwards through the wreckage, half-buried under a rain that burned like acid.

She could taste blood on her tongue, and she spat the red saliva to the ground while she helped Regulus up, frowning at her brother. "You need to go and help the others."

He hesitated, eyeing the blood that poured out of her arm before he caught sight of something on her cheek. It explained the sharp stickiness that she felt on the skin, but she pressed her lips together, tight.

"But you—"

"Get the _fuck_ out of here!" She hadn't meant to shout, but urgency boiled up inside of her at more curses that came soaring over their heads, and she gave him one brief, comforting smile before jumping over the remains of the wall.

She dashed away atop the glass of shattered windows and came to a stop in front of the stone gargoyle, which slid aside to reveal the staircase without a word.

Hermione bolted up the stairs and into the familiar office, glancing hopelessly at Dumbledore's empty chair. Heavy silence rushed into her ears when she moved behind his desk. She was shaking feverishly, and she pulled his drawer open, disarming the several protective incantations placed on it.

Her eyes danced around the pile of Horcruxes, and she hastily threw them atop the soft carpet, dust and debris falling down on it as she knelt down.

She inhaled sharply, her lungs expanding until her chest hurt, and then her head was pounding. Ripples of cold undulated over her skin when she grabbed a curved fang of a dead Basilisk and it hit the golden ring inset at a sharp speed.

A sudden, torturous scream erupted from the Dark smoke that lashed out, rushing to the base of her mind with the intent of wrecking the hope she was holding onto, but she fought on—grabbing the locket and cup next.

She followed the same movements, her breathing ragged as her numb legs weakened on the floor, and she threw the blackened Horcruxes to the side; her eyes already pinned on the last one.

The diary was next, and she didn't know she'd been crying until Moody rushed inside and he flew down to the ground besides her, swiping along the tear streaks on her face with the back of his hand.

"Let me help you," he insisted, his cane forgotten by his side, but Hermione shook her head adamantly, and Moody knew better than to argue right now.

Releasing a shaky breath, she looked down at the book in her hands, already feeling the temptation to write in it when she raised her hand.

She slammed the sharp fang on the Horcrux, a chilling, vicious rage pouring into the air around them when the piece blackened at the impact of the Basilisk venom.

And then . . . she felt _hopeless_—there was no way she could get out of this alive—people were dying out there because of _her_—

Moody tightened his hold on her arm and pulled her up harshly, glaring with no malice as he led her away from the office. "Don't you dare die on me, Hermione," he hissed, loosening his fingers around her to pull the door open once more.

They rushed back out, but between the flash of curses that were flying past their heads, she lost sight of him, and she knew she had to keep moving.

"I won't," she replied nonetheless, and she went to make a sharp turn, instead finding two Death Eaters running her way.

She stepped back into the corner, a silent _Oppugno_ flying past her wand to launch the several bricks on the floor at the cloaked figures. "_Petrificus Totalus!_" she called when one of them managed to avoid the wreckage, and as he fell down to the floor with a loud thud, she bound him with tight ropes.

She kept running, a bunch of spells flying over so close to her head that she could feel the scorch even as she rushed past the duelling figures of people she couldn't identify, and her mind kept chanting three words like a prayer: _friend or foe, friend or foe, friend or foe—_

Hermione skidded to a halt when she saw Sirius and Remus successfully stun the Death Eaters in front of them. She was by their side at an instant, a blast of wind rushing from the tip of her wand and hammering into Cygnus Black when he aimed his wand at Sirius.

He went to retaliate with a beam of green light, and she was then pushed out of the way by Snape, who stood beside her and sent her uncle a barrage of Stunning Spells until the man fell to the floor.

Hermione snapped her gaze up to look at him, words of gratitude frozen at the tip of her tongue when her eyes caught something behind him. She inhaled sharply, raw anger lighting up within the pulse of her magic and with a great force, her spell caught Fenrir in his side, sending him backwards.

"Hermione, allow me," Remus said at once, running to his biggest enemy's direction and she allowed him, knowing well that her best friend deserved to be at the hands of the moster's destruction.

Keeping her eyes on her surroundings, she allowed herself to move closer to Sirius and her fingers to graze against his arm. She deflected a spell that was intended for Peter, who immediately retaliated by rushing towards the Death Eater that had decided to retreat.

"Do you know if—" She swallowed, feeling her throat dry at the words that refused to come out, her innards crying out at the mere implications.

By her side, her twin seemed to understand what she'd meant to ask. "I saw Marlene and Ilana. They seemed to be suffering some damage to the ribs, and other students have been dragged to the side so that they could be healed. And . . ."

He paused. "Dorcas Meadowes."

Her head snapped to the side to look at her brother, her eyes dancing around the blood trickling down his forehead. "_What?_" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The boys called for her, but she didn't wait for a response, moving away from the Entrance Hall with grief suffocating her at every step, leaving her struggling to gather her wits until she had to push an Order member away from the blast of the ceiling above.

Dorcas wouldn't want Hermione to stop in the middle of the battle to mourn her. She would want to fight on, and this was what Hermione would do for her.

Hot debris poured over her head, and the thick crowd was frantic to launch spells at the enemies, not a person noticing the large doors that slowly opened.

Hermione rushed back into the Great Hall, deflecting a spell at a Death Eater and retaliating with a jet of light that sent the man skittering down to the floor.

There were even more Death Eaters there: Moody in combat with Yaxley by the remains of the Head table, another one duelling Kingsley and Benjy. Rookwood and another Death Eater seemed to be in a neck to neck fight with a familiar looking Auror.

People on her side ran blindly, dragging their injured companions away, and she even managed to see Frank Longbottom brandish what appeared to be Venomous Tentacula - looping it around every Death Eater that neared him.

She panted heavy breaths, tempted to shut her dry eyes for a second, when she heard Regulus scream at the top of his lungs, and Hermione swept her gaze towards the keening sound, frantically aiming her wand left and right.

She found him a few yards away, his back towards her, visibly shaking with rage as a body was slammed back her way.

Hermione turned to look at the limp body that fell to the ground, and a wail tore out her mouth, her insides pulling in agony.

_No._

Her breath wedged somewhere between her mouth and her lungs, and she was forced to fall to the ground by the body, her hands holding tightly onto the aristocratic robes that he'd always worn, no matter his status in the eyes of her family.

"Uncle Alphard?" she whispered brokenly, like a child trying to stir a parent awake because she'd just had a nightmare, and she waited for him to wake up and comfort her like he had last December.

Her heartbeat slammed into her throat and she resented it the more she stared at the lifeless man in front of her.

Sirius was still for a long moment when he joined her, before he slowly urged her to stand up, drawing her away from the body. She shook her head adamantly, fighting against his hold and sobbing on his chest.

"Hermione!" he yelled in her ear, pulling her shoulders back to force her to look at him. There was a large split along his lower lip, trembling in effort to rein in his grief. "We need to fight on. For _him_."

Something in her slowly exploded, grief turned into a blind, hot rage and she nodded, catching glimpses of familiar faces in the spur of the battle as she fired jinxes and curses at any Death Eater she could see.

Narcissa threw her old Slytherin housemate across the room, and Hermione could see Abraxas and Lucius fifty yards away from her, bringing down their own friends that they'd once put their trust in.

Distantly, she could make out the sounds of James and Snape fighting Nott, when the booms and snaps of magic exploding ceased at once, and the castle went unnaturally _silent_.

For several beats of her heart, she could feel time slow down, her hand diving for the Invisibility Cloak as she pulled it over her form and then, the Gryffindor sword.

And as she looked up, she caught his serpentine-like face, eyes tainted red and a sneer on his features as he rolled his wand between his fingers, watching the chaos he'd triggered with a sinister smile.

Her eyes then fixed on the great, thick snake by his side, suspended midair and twisting gracefully. Screams of terror erupted in the air at the sight of it, but when he demanded attention, and jets of green and red ceased at once.

"You've fought valiantly, but I pity your foolishness. The person you are all fighting to defend is nowhere to be seen, Hogwarts! Look around you. Where _is_ Hermione Black?"

Several heads turned around to search for her, some Death Eaters for the sake of handing her over to Voldemort, while most looked uncertain at her absence.

"She was right here," she heard Sirius whisper brokenly, his frightened voice pulling at the tight walls of her chest.

Still, Hermione continued to move beneath the Cloak, a Silencing Charm at her steps as she approached the large snake, her composure faltering when Nagini's eyes swept over her hidden form.

_You've got this_, Granger said over Voldemort's voice.

"She has permitted you to die while she so cowardly ran away. You shall hand over Hogwarts now. This battle will only lead to further death on your side."

Hermione could feel her heart pound fiercely in her chest, leaping up to her throat like a bird that wanted to be freed from the screams of her insides. She pulled herself together and in one swift, fluid motion, the silver blade slashed the snake's head, the gory piece spinning high into the air and landing at Voldemort's feet.

The sword fell to the side with a loud _clunk_, and a scream of fury thundered around the room as Voldemort began to scream at his followers.

Curses launched once more, left and right, _everywhere_, and Hermione was quick to roar, "_Protego!_" her Shield Charm preventing Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange from causing any harm to Professor McGonagall.

Voldemort put his white palm up, looking around for the voice until she finally pulled the Invisibility Cloak off her form, yells of shock and cheers now surrounding her and Tom Riddle.

But the crowd seemed to realize what was about to happen as a crimson gaze remained fixed on her, Voldemort's head tilted as he considered her presence.

A mirthless smile curled at his pale mouth, and a cackle of insane, deranged laughter echoed around the silent Great Hall. "You are a foolish girl."

The stutter of her heart ceased. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, _Tom Riddle."_

His red pupils narrowed into thin slits, and she thought she saw his pale skin turn ashen. "How is this possible?" he demanded, but as insane he was, the shock on his face dispelled quickly.

"There's so many things you don't know about," she taunted loudly. "You can feel it, can't you? Your bones weaken, your _immense_ power leave your body. _I_ destroyed _every_ part of your soul if you must know."

Voldemort took a step forward, and she copied him, sharp intakes of breath echoing off the walls at her action.

"You are so blinded with the thirst of power, that you failed to notice the girl that managed to destroy what you held most precious. You brought this to yourself when you dared to kill my Father!"

"No!" he shrieked, his chest rising and falling abruptly as he stared down at her, and as much as she'd thought about this moment, the realization that it was _happening_ tore a shaky breath out of her. She could see the maniacal fire finally burst alive in the red of his eyes, and both of their wands aimed at the other's face, a red glow bursting through the shattered windows.

It pierced her blind for a quick beat of her heart before she felt the spell pull out of her throat, shouting her only miraculous hope in this fight, and pointing the Elder Wand at the Dark wizard:

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

"_Expelliarmus!_"

And like a cannon blasts, Hermione watched as the red jet crashed into green with a deafening, excessive force that had her fight on a step forward, and with obvious, weakened effort, Voldemort stumbled back, feeble arms with suddenly no wand in his white hands now.

She watched as he fell to the ground with a resounding thud, and her spell rid the snakelike features of the all-knowing power they once bore. The splintered wood of Tom Riddle's wand fell beside him, and Hermione stared down at the man that once had dared to order death for many. There was the slight flutter of his robes, and she knew that the now still, silent body would bring threats no more.

Hermione turned around, her hand flying to rub the bone of her shoulder that continued to burn like scorching fire, and she broke the shivering silence with, "Well, he sure knew how to dislocate my shoulder."

Tumult broke around her, the loud shriek of Bellatrix's grief blending into the cheers of friends and the screams of foes that attempted to run free from Aurors.

Her eyes swept around for those she wished to see the most, and then everything went quiet in her ears, a howling silence that was so close to what it had been like before.

She heard the grind of a forgotten blade against the deathly stillness of the ground, a loud slash followed by a gleeful crackle, and sharp pain dug deep in the skin of her back, throbbing as it travelled all the way down to her fingertips.

Just then, with a tearful gaze, she found _him_ \- rushing through the crowds frantically with his eyes fixed on her only. Brittle knees and wobbly legs, she pushed herself forward with huge effort, her breaths coming out in puffs but grateful that she could still feel his heartbeat hammering under her touch.

She fisted the front of his robes in a tight hold, and her eyes feasted on him as though she could stand there and look at him forever; the specks of green and brown and golden, his full lips smeared with her kisses of the past, his untidy hair that was once beneath her fingers.

"_James_."

"Hermione, you did it!"

He hadn't noticed yet, his glasses askew when he looked down at her, a bright, wobbly smile on his face, though it faltered greatly when hot drops of tears slipped on her cheeks.

"I love you - _so much_," she whispered, struggling for another breath as his arms sneaked around her back and he was still for a long moment.

James felt his breath catch to his throat, static with shock when his fingers crossed the surface of a sharp blade and sticky, hot liquid oozed all over her back. For five hesitant beats of his heart, nothing happened.

And then, the roar of outrage erupted. Sirius let out an earth-shattering scream, while Snape snarled and hit Bellatrix with a spell that seemed to knock the breath out of her. Regulus joined them, striking the woman with a spell that pulled Bellatrix in deep agony, sinking to her knees while Remus and Peter went retaliate with more spells.

But it was Sirius's spell that soared like fire beneath the others and it struck with the only purpose to kill, snatching the deranged smile from Bellatrix's sickening face as she was sent toppling with a blunt _thump_.

The crowd cheered once more, but James remained frozen, his arms trembling with the force of his panic. He struggled to murmur deep and broken words of encouragement to keep her eyes open, but they both slowly crumbled to the ground, Hermione in his arms - _limp_.

He screamed, "_NO!_" at the top of his lungs, so loud that it succeeded above all the noise echoing around the Great Hall. Heads snapped back to look at Hermione, and the boys were quick to join his side, Sirius falling to the ground and rubbing her hand furiously to wake her up.

"Come on, _please, please, please—"_ James sobbed blindly, her petite form cradled in his arms, and he cried desperately, lamenting for Sirius to wake her up through his twin bond, for someone to do _something_.

"I can't feel her," Sirius choked out, his nails clawing at his chest, and his wild, frantic gaze danced around Hermione. "_Why can't I feel her?_"

Moody rushed to their side, pulling Sirius up and when the boy trashed in his hold, the man kept him back with his cane. He sent them a fierce look, pointing at Fawkes, who had just arrived in the Great Hall with an ear-splitting shriek.

"She needs _Fawkes's _tears, idiots. Not yours!"

Sirius fell to his knees again, pulling Hermione in his arms, clutching her tightly and away from everyone. "Hermione . . . my—she told me that they wouldn't work on her!"

And as they argued, no one noticed a certain, blackened stone in the Chosen One's hand as it turned on itself, thrice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, Alphard's death kind of just . . . happened, and I feel terribly sorry. Still, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! There it is, though - the end to Voldemort. I wanted to stick to a Canon-like battle and death, simply because it felt more right to me. I would love to hear what you have to say about this chapter, or even the story in general! Two more chapters and it all ends :(


	69. The Tears

"_Papa?"_

_The little, four years old girl had her hair tied in a tight braid that did nothing to control the mess that were her curls._

_Orion Black smiled at the child in surprise, his large hand resting on her frizzy head. "What are you doing awake?"_

"_I had a bad dream." Hermione Black pulled her bottom lip into a pout, trembling until the man pulled her in his arms. He led her down to a very large room, numerous shelves filled with thick books._

_They sat on his usual chair by the desk. Orion watched as his daughter peered in awe at the texts surrounding her. He pushed back the strand of hair that had leapt out of the braid. Kreacher must find a better hairstyle for the girl._

"_Don't worry, little one. Papa is here for you."_

_._

_Hermione Black hissed, feeling the scrape along the skin of her knee burn. Her and her brother, Sirius Black, had just returned from their daily trip to the Muggle playground, after a rude, scrawny boy had pushed her away from the slide._

_A hot headed, six years old Sirius has wanted to retaliate, but the twin within his reach cried for him to take her home before anyone could notice their presence._

_So, Orion Black, unaware of where the two twins had returned from, eyed the injury on his daughter with shock and concern. He rushed to her side, snapping at Kreacher for looking around and not doing anything._

_The house elf muttered something along the lines of his kids betraying his trust, but the man paid him no mind. The tip of his wand touched Hermione's knee, the girl watching with a bated breath as the skin healed magically._

"_You're amazing, Papa!" Hermione gasped, but her smile slowly faded when the distant sound of Walburga's voice managed to echo around the room._

_._

_The Black family apparated back into the parlour in a tense silence. The two twins shared a look of apprehension, while Regulus held onto Kreacher's hand frightfully._

"_What am I going to do with you two?!" bellowed their mother, Walburga Black, as she turned on the spot and sneered down at her own kids. The back of her hand went to harshly hit the skin of the twins, but her name was called out in a loud, booming tone._

_Orion Black looked furious as he gripped her wrist in a tight hold, pulling her to his study and away from his children. The argument between the married couple could be heard faintly before a Silencing Charm was thrown up._

_After an hour or so, Orion entered back into the room to see the nine years old daughter slump against the wall by the fireplace, her eyes drooping slightly as she waited for him._

_The man froze at his steps, his features telling nothing of how he felt at the sight of his daughter, whose head snapped up once she noticed his presence. "Will you forgive me for my behaviour? Please, Papa! I'm so sorry," she hurried to say, her hand tugging onto his trousers._

_Orion Black avoided her gaze, his tone void of any emotion when he ordered, "You must call me Father. Now, go to your room."_

_._

_The man eyed the small, Christmas gift cautiously, feeling the expectant gaze of his daughter. His fingers touched the simple necklace, a small, see-through sphere holding emerald power. He found it to be the best gift he could ever receive._

_But the man's brows raised just a fraction, the first year only receiving a small nod._

_._

_Orion Black smiled at his daughter, used to the curious look that always managed to remain etched on her face. The fifteen years old girl looked away from the stranger that she was facing at the table, just in time to catch her father's gaze._

_No words were exchanged, but the resolve within the confines of the man's heart broke, the last remains of it leaving with surety later that night._

_To his daughter, he shared one last look of desperation of a father, who knew what he must do to keep his child safe at all costs._

_And he did just that._

* * *

**December, 1976.**

Hermione looked around. She could no longer feel the pain that had continued to sharpen at each breath she took, and with her hand, she reached for her back.

Her fingers came back clean, with not a drop of blood.

Startled, she immediately wondered if she'd died. She eyed her surroundings with apprehension, unsure as to why afterlife had forced her back to St. Mungo's childbirth section, right outside of room number eight.

Hermione recognized it immediately from the very first memories she'd seen with the Headmaster and Sirius, and her eyes then finally caught sight of a familiar man, rid of any signs of old age from the last time she'd seen him.

His hair was gelled back neatly, just like Regulus, and she took one hesitant step towards him.

"_Father?_"

The man—_was it his replica? was this a memory?_—had his arms wide open, a warm smile seeping through his lips much like the one she'd seen in her early years of life.

"You must call me _Papa_," he whispered, and she immediately jumped into his embrace, unable to let go as much as she tried. Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes, and her throat clicked wetly.

"You _left_ me," she sobbed brokenly, burying her face into the same robes he'd worn on the day her and Sirius had been born. Her mind flashed back to her last moments with her father, and she cried harder. "You left me!"

She felt his hand hover over her back until he finally allowed himself to comfort her, patting her back and nodding along to her every word. "I'm so sorry, little one. I've been a bad father."

Hermione drew back at an instant, words of protest forming along the tip of her tongue. "It was all _Walburga's_ fault!" she argued fiercely, fighting against a sob choking the breath out of her, and her chest rising and falling at the reminder of the cruel woman's crimes.

"But I could have stopped her from hurting my kids much sooner," he asserted calmly, in a way she now knew that he was trying very hard to keep his emotions guarded.

"I could _never_ resent you for it," she whispered, her lips trembling like a little child who wished for a wound to go away.

He shook his head, taking a deep breath before he carded his hand through her curls. "I'm so proud of you for never giving up. Such a tough fighter." His tone bled with pride at her courage, despite the Slytherin emerald that his robes were adorned with.

"Well, this is certainly touching," a woman called, her voice strikingly familiar, and Hermione whirled on the spot, her eyes falling on _her_.

Hermione _Granger_.

Like in the first meeting between her and Orion, Granger had very few grey strands of curls, and her eyes gleamed slightly as she gazed upon the father-daughter duo. It felt weird, facing the image of the woman Hermione would've grown to become, if she hadn't been killed—

"You're not dead," Granger told her with a warm laugh, standing in between Hermione and her father.

Her brows knitted together, and she stared at the woman in confusion, still not used to being able to see Granger right in front of her, rather than her mind. "I'm not?"

Granger shook her head, rolling her eyes when her father muttered something under his breath. "You're in a limbo," she explained with a warm smile. "People out there are trying very hard to save you."

"_Oh_." The memory of falling into James's arms rushed back into her mind, and she remembered the faint noise of the boys fighting Bellatrix just behind her. Her eyes widened in alarm. "Are they okay? Did they kill Bellatrix—"

"You'll have to go back to find out," Orion told her, cutting off the older woman who had opened her mouth to respond. It seemed that he still resented Granger for ruining Hermione's fate through the life debt. "When they use Fawkes's tears."

She narrowed her eyes at Granger. "You said they wouldn't work on me anymore."

"And I was right," Granger replied immediately, wrangling her hands at Hermione's sharp stare. "_However_, they _can_ be effective if the tears that are already in your body are removed."

Her father nodded, seemingly satisfied with the statement. "No more Seer powers, or women messing with your future, dear."

Granger scoffed, but Hermione felt an odd sense of grief wash over her, at the thought of abandoning the woman back here. She'd gotten so used to hearing her voice in her head . . . as frustrating as she may have been at times.

"You—I mean, you _are_ alive in your dimension, right?"

"I would hope so. I had dinner with Harry and Ginny at eight that day," she murmured with a wry smile. Granger placed a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder, squeezing it lightly as she said, "You'll be fine without me, Hermione Black. You've accomplished so much already."

"You need to wake up now, little one," Orion insisted in a hushed voice, drawing her into a tight embrace for one last time. "Tell your brothers how much I love them, as well."

Hermione felt a deep frown tug at her lips, not yet ready to let go of him. She doubted she'll ever be. "I love you, Father. I miss you so much—I'm so sorry for leaving you—"

"_Nonsense_," he said evenly, giving her the widest smile she'd ever seen on his face. "If I was given a second chance, I still wouldn't hesitate saving you. Trust me, I'm happy here. And before you say it, Alphard also refuses to accept any apologies. He's rather pleased to see me again, and in fact, he's waiting for me . . ."

Hermione released a shaky breath, feeling their soft murmurs of encouragement as her eyes finally fluttered shut, and then, she heard one final, warm, "I love you," from her father.

* * *

As the entire Wizarding world waited for their saviour to wake up, reparations at Hogwarts already began in her honour, the Aurors having no trouble arresting numerous Death Eaters—and at Sirius's insistence, Walburga and Cygnus Black for additional charges due to being behind Orion Black's death.

They won't be able to leave until the day they die.

On the other hand, scattered families that had no guardians to go back to took refuge in the many Order safe houses scattered around the country, while other, particular loved ones gathered in front of a certain door.

* * *

"Sirius is even willing to have his hair braided by _Snape_, but _only_ if you wake up . . ."

Hermione could feel her lungs expand, her bleary eyes slowly taking in the faint light coming from the ceiling above. Upon noticing her parched throat and her similar surroundings, she briefly panicked, wondering if it had all been a dream and she was simply back to waking up from Dolohov's attack.

But just then, her gaze flew to the left on that familiar, black untidy head of curls that she'd come to adore, and she finally noticed that he was holding her hand tightly, his head resting on her stomach while a bouquet of yellow tulips lay by the side of the bed.

Hesitantly, she brought her hand up to run her shaky fingers through his hair, and James froze under her touch for two exact seconds until his head snapped up.

Hermione marvelled at the chance of seeing his beautiful, hazel eyes as they widened, registering that she was awake, and there was a faint commotion on the other side of the door.

"Did I do it?" she whispered, her voice like a wisp into the air. She needed to make sure she'd really accomplished what she'd been asked to, and when his lips tightened and he nodded firmly, she let out a relieved sigh.

He gave her a long, lingering kiss on the forehead, his warm hands cupping her face. "_You did it, Hermione_," he breathed out, and in his eyes was a clear and ardent need to simply hold her gaze for as long as they could.

She could hear Sirius's voice outside of the room, screaming about being able to tell that she was awake now. "I need to see my fucking _sister!_"

Her eyes lingered to the bunch of flowers that James had just buried under his weight. "Those flowers were pretty," she complained half-heartedly, and James huffed out a small, shaky laugh, opening his mouth to respond just as the door flew open.

A wide eyed Sirius stood by the doorway, his silver gaze immediately on her and he growled, "I fucking _hate_ you!" as he ran towards the bed, pushed James aside and pulled her into a tight embrace that choked the breath out of her.

She let out a tearful laugh at his typical greeting. "I love you, too!"

Once Sirius was satisfied with the amount of time he'd held her tight in his arms—so that she wouldn't run away like a crazy witch, _according to him_—she was greeted by the misty gazes of many: Regulus, Remus, Peter, Moody, Marlene, the Malfoys, Tonks _and_ Potters, and later that day, when Sirius had gone to get some food, even Snape came to visit her.

It wasn't after a day or so, that she found out Dumbledore was still recovering from a Dark curse that he'd been struck with overseas, but once she did get to see him, she knew he would get well soon.

A certain journalist by the name of _Skeeter_ ended up finding out where the Chosen One's room at St. Mungo's was—_oh_, how she wished Granger was there to see the woman, so young but still so sly—and Hermione was told to rest at the Potters, instead.

Later, when the new year was lingering just around the corner, she insisted on going to each and every funeral, and the moment she was awarded the Order of Merlin, she made sure to read out the list of those that had sacrificed their life in the battle for the sake of the Wizarding world.

And no one survived the war unscathed; Hermione stuck with a constant need to look back every time she heard a sudden noise. However, they fought on, not once giving up on each other even as the cruel aftermath of trauma crept on. It helped knowing that the man behind the misery was long gone.

Lord Voldemort was dead, and for the first time in her life, Hermione Black was grateful for the tears of a phoenix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback! I appreciate all the kudos and comments, and I'm so grateful for all the love you've given this story. The epilogue is next, and then it's all over . . . god, it makes me so sad, but an end must come to everything, good or bad. Anyways, I'll see you again soon, for one last time. Thank you again!


	70. Epilogue

**November, 1977.**

"You sure look beautiful when you're paying more attention to an essay than me."

Hermione laughed, tearing her eyes away from her essay on the properties behind human transfigurations. She leaned against her chair, the corners of her lips twitching when she caught James's morose expression. "Well, you look very charming, but I doubt you need to be told that."

A handsome smile thrown her way and, "Of course," he said rather arrogantly, placing his chin on his upturned palm with a grunt. "Sadly, I think I'm getting old."

Oh, Hermione wasn't so sure about _that_, with the way he was always so energetic, full of charisma early in the day and . . . even in numerous corners in the Head Common Room.

_Huh_, they sure had christened every corner of it, taking full advantage of the role handed to them by the Headmaster - much to the surprise of Remus, who had expected himself to be nominated as Head Boy.

When Hermione had told him that James had been Head Boy even in the other dimension, he'd relaxed greatly, saying something along the lines of 'damn good luck'.

She was sure he'd stopped brooding when Regulus had stepped inside their compartment, and Hermione had taken to chastise James for carving _J. P. + H. B._ onto the wood of the door.

Not even one day of having responsibility, and he'd already vandalized a school property!

"Mhm, Miss Black. _What_ is that lovely blush for?" James murmured, his breath hot against the shell of her ear as he leaned down, teasing and nipping at the skin that connected her neck to her shoulder.

Her hand snaked around to card through his hair, and he let out a beautiful sigh into her skin. "Not now, I'm afraid," he said regretfully, pulling away just as she gaped at the spot where he'd been.

"Are you really James Potter?" she questioned, squinting her eyes at him to dramatically make out the obvious features of her boyfriend.

He nodded sagely. "You see, we're in the _library_. A place that my girlfriend loves the most . . ." he trailed off as he rolled his sleeve up.

Her eyes wandered down to the animated tattoo of their Animagus forms and a wolf that all the Marauders had gotten at the end of their sixth year. She watched as Prongs accidentally stepped on Cub's small tail, who in turn began to chase him in a circle.

Hermione's gaze then dragged up to the lean lines on his tanned arm that never failed to leave her a bit too breathless, and she was sure James knew that, with the way he tightened his hand around the corner of the table, flexing his muscles even more.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, pulling her attention away from questions like 'How could you make an _arm_ look so fit?'

". . . I think she might even love this place more than _me_, her charming boyfriend." By the end of his melodramatic rant, he'd pulled his bottom lip out into a pout, peering at her through his glasses with wide, hazel eyes. He batted his lashes, and her façade almost cracked.

"You can do better than that."

She wanted to push the words back into her mouth when challenge sparked in his eyes, a dangerous glint in brown-green flecks, and he pushed his tongue into his cheek.

And while she _did_ want to snog him silly, consequences be damned, she was also curious to see what he would do.

He leaned closer, so close that the scent of citrus and spice surrounded her senses, leaving her dizzy with need, just as he kissed under her jaw, marking a hot trail up to her ear.

Her mouth ran dry and her breathing grew rugged, no matter how many times they'd been at it before. His touch was like Firewhiskey, so hot and addicting that not a time will come where she won't want it.

He placed an open mouthed kiss over the thin, cotton fabric of her shirt, and she was thinking of backing out, her head whirling up to see if Madam Pince had moved even an inch—but then she saw it, a glimmer of the Invisibility Cloak in his pockets that she pulled over them. James didn't stop, if not to bring her mouth to his and plunge his tongue inside, hot with need.

He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her with ease, pulling her legs around his hips for her to straddle him as her arms locked behind his head and she leaned down to go back to their kiss.

It was then, that she felt a cocky smile grow against her lips, and she huffed softly. "Fine, you win!" And Hermione had no problem admitting it, not with the way she pulsed and throbbed under his touch.

* * *

**March, 1978.**

Hermione looked down at the enchanted parchment on her desk, biting down a grin at James's words that were much too similar to the ones from their fifth year.

_Can you feel the sexual tension between us? We've got chemistry, don't we?_

She could tell Remus was beginning to regret helping her boyfriend out, with the way he was elbowing her and hissing her name under his breath.

She ignored him, instead grabbing her quill and writing down her message. _Yes, I'd say there's a lot of tension. What about it?_

James let out a satisfied chuckle in the back, probably avoiding Sirius's inquiring look as he leaned back, two front legs of his chair in the air.

_Am I hearing it right, sweetheart? You_ _**really** __want to have children with swoon worthy hair and a charming smile?_

Hermione was unable to hold back a wide smile, and before she could reply with anything, a fist slammed on her desk, startling her to no end and leading her to hold onto Remus's arm, who looked like he'd seen it coming.

"Moo—Professor, how can I help you?"

He snatched the parchment from her hands, moving away from her desk with a scowl and an arched brow. "Help me out by telling me why you and Potter weren't paying attention, Miss Black."

She swallowed with a blank mind, looking at her best friend for help, but the werewolf was pointedly avoiding her gaze with a grin. She glared at him for his betrayal, before looking back at the front of the classroom. "I was paying attention, Sir!"

Moody hummed, waving the parchment in the air. "Then you have no problem with me reading this out loud, do you?" He cleared his throat, ignoring her panicked protests as he read, "Can you feel the—"

In the midst of her panic and memories of the training that this same man had given her, Hermione immediately sent a non-verbal Silencing Charm his way without realizing what she'd done - _well_, not until a terrible silence greeted her, thick with consequences and punishment.

She and James _did_ end up having detention for two full evenings after that, much to Professor McGonagall's disapproval, who had to remind them that they were Head students and should be the most responsible in class.

* * *

**June, 1978.**

The innocent, first year Hermione Black would've been shocked to see all the people that had come to attend her—and the boys'—graduation, cheering for her loudly, amongst the many students that still admired her as though she was Morgana reincarnated.

At the end of it all, the Order members had all come to see her, but it was _Moody_ that looked the most emotional at the milestone she'd crossed.

Though, he'd looked rather bothered when she pointed it out. "You're barmy!" he barked, clicking his tongue when she kept laughing at him. "I still wonder how you managed it all by yourself . . ."

Hermione shook her head in amusement, her smile falling short when she caught sight of Abraxas. She ran past the crowd, waving at him excitedly and ignoring Lucius's sour expression. "I was wondering where you were!" She turned towards Lucius, giving him a wry grin. "Narcissa is with Andromeda, if you want to hold onto your wife's skirt."

Abraxas gave a hearty laugh at her quip, unlike his son who sent her a sharp, "_Congratulations_," before storming to his wife as though he wanted to prove her point.

"Have you seen James? I think the boys are plotting something, with the way they've stuck by my side but he's nowhere to be seen," she murmured with a hint of suspicion. After the ceremony, they'd only scurried off somewhere when she asked them where her boyfriend was, leaving a distracted Regulus by her side.

Even her little brother had eventually left to congratulate Snape, who seemed to be rather pleased with the attention the Evans feasted him with.

Abraxas cut through her thoughts regarding the past hour, giving her a small smile as he said, "I heard that he's waiting for you by the Entrance Hall."

And as she'd been told, Hermione did indeed find the boy by the large doors, standing tall and proud at the sight of her. The curls that Sirius had made sure to look neat for the ceremony were now untidy once again, and James ran his hand through his hair to make a bizarre point.

"Why are we going outside?" she asked, but the splatter of rain drops soon tuned her out of whatever James was babbling about, quite incoherently at that.

Hermione rushed off to the middle of the large, green grounds, her heels not slowing her down even for a moment as she found the same spot where James had first kissed her.

She laughed and tilted her head up, so that the warm drops could lightly splatter down on her. She was sure Marlene was going to be very mad once she found out that she'd ruined all the effort she'd put in her hair.

"Play some music," a faint voice yelled, and as she continued to swirl around, she caught the sight of James stumbling forward, clearing his throat before he activated the radio spell on his wand.

Then, she heard it, the sweet sway of the music as she rested her eyes close and laid her head on James's shoulder. The loud beat of his heart under her fingertip felt like a warm blanket of lovely comfort.

_You're just too good to be true_

_Can't take my eyes off of you_

_You'd be like Heaven to touch_

_I wanna hold you so much_

_At long last, love has arrived_

_And I thank God I'm alive_

_You're just too good to be true_

_Can't take my eyes off of you_

James tucked his chin safely on her head, holding her in his arms in a tight embrace, as though he couldn't bear to have her any further away.

_I love you, baby_

_And if it's quite alright_

_I need you, baby_

_To warm the lonely night_

_I love you, baby_

_Trust in me when I say_

_Oh, pretty baby_

_Don't bring me down, I pray_

_Oh, pretty baby_

_Now that I've found you, stay_

_And let me love you, baby_

_Let me love you_

James had grabbed her hand and swirled her around once more, setting her off with her arms wide open as she laughed and twirled, but when she turned around and stopped abruptly, she was thrown back to her fifth year as everything went silent and she found this beautiful boy ahead.

But instead of a kiss on his mind, James was on his knees, a thin, silver ring in the box that he was grasping onto with a trembling hand. She could feel her breath quicken, her chest rise in delightful surprise as James went on to speak:

"Hermione Black, I find myself lucky to be here today, standing under the rain with the most perfect girl I've had the pleasure to know. I didn't know it was possible to love someone so much with my entire heart. When I caught your hand in mine that day at King's Cross, I hadn't realized how much importance you would come to hold in my life, and I am still so thankful that you tripped that day, and that Sirius was a little shit by not helping you."

Hermione choked out a laugh, her hand flying over her mouth as she struggled to keep her emotions at bay, and he offered her a gentle smile.

"I honestly don't know when I fell for you, but I've been bearing my love for you for a long time, even before I kissed you right on this spot. What I do know however, is that _you_ are the one I want to spend my life with, and today, I'm ready to ask you."

"Hermione, will you marry me?"

She attempted to make the words come out as loud as she could, "_Yes, yes, yes—_" nodding along as he held her hand and slid the ring where it will stay for the rest of her life. He stood up, holding tightly to the curve of her waist and he pulled her into the air, their sweet laughter mingled together with pure happiness.

He stopped to give her a long, searing kiss, full of promise and love, and only when they pulled away, did she notice the crowd that had formed around the walls of the castle, still shielded away from the rain.

"She said yes!" James shouted at the top of his lungs, and following the Marauders' loud whoops, everyone else cheered for them as well; from the rare, beaming smile of Professor McGonagall to the slow smirk that Snape sent her way, congratulating her in the silent distance.

* * *

**August, 1978.**

"Do I look okay?" James asked for the umpteenth time that day, looking like he might puke at the nerves that assaulted him. His best mate did look like the neat lad that he was, and Sirius admitted that James needed to look the best. He was marrying Hermione Black, for Godric's sake!

"You look great," Remus assured him, looking quite nervous himself as he checked the time and glanced at the path on the Potter grounds, specially made for the bride and covered in tulip petals.

"It's time!" Peter hissed from his spot as the groomsman. Remus hurried to join him and Regulus, facing Marlene, Andromeda and Narcissa on the other side.

Sirius remained by James's side, clenching his jaw tight as realization finally hit him of what was about to happen. His little sister was really going to get married, and he still couldn't quite believe it.

She'd gone through so many hardships, trouble thrown her way that she valiantly fought against, and there she was - walking with confidence and a bright smile, Abraxas Malfoy by her side.

Sirius looked back at James, his hazel eyes misting over as he stared at his to-be-wife and took a deep, shuddering breath.

"She looks beautiful, doesn't she?" Sirius questioned, watching as Abraxas murmured something in her ear.

"Yes," James rasped out, his shoulders clearly tense with anticipation when Hermione stepped in front of him, letting go of the older Malfoy's arm. "Hermione . . . I could _kiss_ you right now."

Sirius sent him a panicked look. "You have to wait, Prongs," he hissed, giving a brief, hesitant smile to the audience in front of them. He cleared his throat. "We are gathered here today, for the union of James Potter and Hermione Black."

Soft claps were heard over Hermione's chuckle, and Sirius subtly poked her arm to stop her from getting distracted and undressing her future husband with her eyes.

_Disgusting!_

He tied his twin and James's hands together with a white ribbon, stepping back as he began the binding spell that Remus had made sure he remembered.

It was James that began with his vows. "I dedicate to you my support and loyalty."

"I promise you years of joy and safety," Hermione said with a soft smile, her eyes twinkling as they danced over James's face.

"I will cherish you with immense, pure love."

She expelled a soft sigh. "Beyond this life, and the next,_ I love you._"

A bright light pulsed around the newly wedded couple, the ribbons tied around them shifting into a golden glow.

"I now pronounce you both bonded for life. Congratulations!" and then, Sirius subtly turned his head to hide the warm tears that made a slow path down his cheeks, his heart stuttering in happiness at the future his loved ones were making.

Later, he would tell everyone that he was just avoiding having to look at their gross snogging session.

* * *

Soon after graduating - marrying, in James and Hermione's case, and later, everyone else's - her friends pursued what they'd wished to do the most. She, Remus and Snape—who she was sure wouldn't want to be grouped with two _Marauders_—had chosen to be apprentices for Charms, DADA, and Potions.

Moody had been happy to pass on the job to Remus, who wasn't given a chance to hesitate at the offer thanks to the laws that no longer allowed the discrimination of werewolves in all institutions.

Being the girl who killed Voldemort sure had its perks, with the power that allowed her to bring the necessary changes in the world she'd saved.

James and Sirius had kept their decision of becoming Aurors, much like Marlene _Black_ had with journalism.

On the other hand, Peter had surprised everyone when he was hired immediately after graduation, as the illustrator for most Wizarding books out there, and he'd ended up finding the partner for the rest of his life, Mary MacDonald - now _Pettigrew_ \- a sweet writer that had been in the year above them.

The brunette was quickly welcomed into their group of friends, fitting right in with her bubbly and yet witty nature.

Regulus _Lupin_ . . . _oh_, how much Walburga had wailed in Azkaban at the news of the wedding and last name change—he was now a successful Seeker of the Puddlemere United, and he'd quickly fallen into the Marauders' dynamics. Now, he was able to give Moony company on full moon nights thanks to his gray wolf Animagus form.

As far as Hermione knew, Lily _Snape_ had taken to working at the Apothecary in Diagon Alley, having seen the redhead when she'd gone to buy a few Potions to deal with the boys' stupid hangovers.

Her trips there had soon halted, though, when they were greeted with the wonderful news of her being pregnant. James had also stopped drinking to support her in her pregnancy, willing to leave Godric's Hollow in the middle of the night, to get whatever she craved for.

* * *

**February, 1980.**

"_Psst."_

_Hermione groaned loudly, burying her head in her pillow, clearly frustrated. "What is it, James? I have class with my fifth years early in the morning."_

_James scratched the back of his head, a frown pulling at his lips. "Didn't you say in your sleep that you wanted butterscotch ice cream? I just went and bought it."_

_Now sitting up, she allowed a small, amused smile to bloom on her face. "James . . . I'm pretty sure I didn't mean now."_

_He chuckled lowly, shrugging as he gave her a tight hug. He then pulled her night robe up, so that he could lay his palm on her bare stomach. "Hey, Prongslet. Should I give you the ice cream in the morning, instead?"_

"_I think he'd like that."_

* * *

Marlene and Mary had announced their pregnancy just a little after her, while Regulus and Remus were successful in adopting a sweet, Muggleborn baby by the beginning of March.

Theodore Lupin had been a wonderful practice, as James liked to call it from the first time they'd babysat him, and as bummed as she was for the Pettigrews being Godparents, she still truly loved her nephew dearly.

* * *

**April, 1980.**

_Her fingertips were smudged with paint, when Remus finished shoving down her chocolate supply in her own home. He smiled across the table, encouraging but also amused._

"_What are you supposed to be doing right now?"_

"_Painting," she replied simply, and her best friend rolled his eyes, nodding along with a grin._

"_For Theo," she then added when she felt that the piece looked artistic enough to be hung on her nephew's bedroom door. "Just watch. He'll grow up and still stop to admire the painting before entering his room."_

"_I'm sure." He laughed, despite the look she sent him, and he then decided to ask for another one, to hang it on the door of his bedroom and make Regulus laugh._

_Whatever that meant._

* * *

Anyways, at least the Lupins had _considered_ her for the role of Godmother, unlike Lucius, who'd blandly declined the moment a pregnant Narcissa had hinted at her name. Instead, he'd promptly agreed with the Tonks.

To no one's surprise, though, her and James had decided to ask Sirius and Marlene to be Godparents for their son, and her brother had sobbed into their embrace as though he hadn't seen it coming.

* * *

**May, 1980.**

"_I'm just—so glad to have you in my life!" Sirius wept, already looking for a glass of Firewhiskey when she smacked the back of his head and told him to deal with the lack of liquor in their house._

"_Pregnant Hermione is even scarier," James whispered to his best mate, as though she wasn't resting her head on his lap._

_They were interrupted by the Patronus of future Godfather Regulus, who called for them to meet his Godson in the calmest voice he could pull, while Remus's mutters could still be heard, wondering why it was taking Mary so long._

_Gregor Pettigrew ended up taking his time, but with a relieved cry, Peter allowed them to see his son, and she cried her eyes out at how quickly everyone was growing up._

* * *

On the last day of July, Hermione had just finished making lesson plans for her seventh years' fall term—much to James's chagrin, who had just wanted to fall asleep with her in his arms—and it was then that her water broke, rousing everyone from their sleep to rush to St. Mungo's.

* * *

**July, 1980.**

_Harry James Potter was born just a few minutes before midnight, cradled in her arms as he finally opened his small, precious eyes, and she let out a small cry of love for the brown that greeted her._

"_Our little boy," James whispered, tears streaking his cheeks, reddened with exhaustion—really had he given birth?—and he passed his son to Sirius, who looked like he might melt into a puddle of adoration for his Godson._

"_He's going to be a Quidditch player, alright," both Marauders said together, much to the amusement of everyone in the room, but no - not Hermione._

"_My son is not getting on a broom!"_

* * *

Harry did, in fact, get a broom from his bloody Godfather that Hermione had half the mind to murder, especially when her son began to insist that he _must_ fly without Uncle Padfoot's assistance, having seen Draco do it with a loud taunt.

_Abraxas and Lucius must've told him to do it on purpose!_

Anyways, in turn Hermione had pampered her Godson, Alphard Black—coincidentally born just a day after Harry! The boy had taken to being quite a reader, much to the surprise of his parents, Sirius and Marlene, who . . . well, were _nothing_ like it.

Hermione was sure that her father and Uncle Alphard would've loved to converse with the intellectual boy, had they been there with them, but she knew that they were watching over the family, nonetheless.

* * *

**September, 1991.**

"Mum?"

Hermione stopped fretting over Harry's trunk to make sure he wasn't leaving anything behind, silently adding to her list to check that the Marauders hadn't sneaked in a broom.

She would later come to chastise herself for thinking that it would've stopped Harry from still becoming the youngest Seeker alive, much to the surprise and delight of everyone.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed and smoothing out the sheets beneath her palm. There had been a time, where a crib had been put in place instead, holding Harry safe from the world at night.

Why did her boy have to grow up so fast?

He gave her a crinkled smile, ruffling his black, unruly hair much like his dad usually did. "Dad told me that the Harry in the other dimension went through a lot of _shi_—crap."

Hermione stiffened, her tone dropping to a dangerous edge as she asked, "He did, did he?"

Harry hurried to sit by her side, pushing his round glasses up the bridge of his nose and letting out a nervous laugh. "Relax, mum. He said nothing about _his_ fight with Voldemort." When her frown didn't budge, he insisted, "I just want to reassure you that I won't get into any trouble and hide it from you."

With a soft sigh, Hermione pulled him into a tight hug, well aware that the promise wouldn't last for long, what with the way him, Alphard, Theo, Gregor, and Draco had grown up to fall into the Marauders' footsteps.

"Sweetie, it's okay to have fun at Hogwarts," she told him, well aware of the happiness and love she herself had found in the same castle.

No matter the pain and destruction.

"Just don't forget about your studies," she added quickly once she drew back, standing up to levitate the trunk to the living room. She didn't have to turn around to see the amused roll of his brown eyes.

"Yes, _Mother_. You'll be there as my Charms professor to remind me, anyways."

"Well," Hermione chuckled briefly when a thought popped into her head, "let's hope you don't bother the Headmaster as much as _I_ did. I think the portraits in his office can recognize me by the sound of my steps alone."

Harry followed close behind, sniggering loudly at her words, and she allowed her gaze to fall on her husband, who was just about done dressing into his Auror robes.

"Remember, Prongslet. _It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa. Make the 'gar' nice and long_," James teased, sending her a wide grin and a wink as he went to join their son's side.

He held onto Harry's one hand just as she did with the other, and the Potters spun on the spot, apparating away to King's Cross with a crack.

On the wall hung the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black, taken away from Grimmauld when Regulus had complained about his snide comments. The old Headmaster finally smiled at the empty spot of the living room.

"A Black honouring my house by being the saviour of Wizards and Witches!"

The smile would soon drop when he found out that Harry, like most of the Black descendants in his year, had been sorted in the Gryffindor House; Draco Malfoy being the only Slytherin. Not that it changed his friendship with anyone - _no_, they were past that.

* * *

**August, 2002.**

Hermione and James Potter later watched as their only son, Harry Potter, married the love of his life, Luna Lovegood. Not a redhead in the slightest, like Ginny Weasley and Rose Snape, and something that James had so deliberately pointed out.

"Should we make another one, princess?" James whispered into her ear, looking as attractive as ever when he leaned back to see her reaction.

She was about to respond when a loud complaint from Sirius came their way. "Oi! That's my little sister you're talking to!"

Peter grimaced at her twin. "I'm pretty sure you _know_ how Harry was born."

"And Hermione is his _wife_," Remus added in his teacher tone, ever the voice of reason that they all still respected.

Hermione merely huffed. "A two minutes difference doesn't make you older than me, Sirius!"

_ **Fin.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over . . . it's over, what the hell? Where did time go? I can barely grasp onto the fact that this story ended with 70 chapters, let alone the fact that this journey with you lasted eleven, wonderful months. So much happened in my life during this time, but all the love you gave this story seriously saved my life, more than you can ever imagine. This was my very first story, that too in a language that I only fully learned five years ago. Now that it's completed . . . I can't help but cry and feel accomplished at the same time :(
> 
> I want to give a heartfelt thank you to each and every reader that gave Tears of Phoenix some time of their day. I don't know how I'm going to let go of this story . . . not when I am so, so attached to everything that comes with it; the characters, or even my routine of writing in the middle of the night with a playlist playing. I don't think I can ever stop talking now that I have started, lol. I just really hope that you enjoyed this story to your fullest. I will never stop wanting to know what you think about it, and every time I'll see new kudos or comments, I will continue to smile like my whole day has been made. Again, thank you so much and goodbye for now!
> 
> P.S. Since, I cannot let go of this story so easily, feel free to comment any kind of questions you may have, and I'll feed your curiosity by answering to all of them individually!
> 
> Song Credits: Can't Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli.


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